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sarahsmi13s · 1 month ago

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Please, Be in the Chair, Dad

Tell Them Universe

pairings: jake 'hangman' seresin x wife!reader

characters: jake seresin, y/n seresin, grayson seresin, kennedy seresin

warnings: third person pov, parents fighting, arguing, mentions of canon dangers of being a pilot, anxiety, please let me know if missed anything

word count: ~1.5k

a/n: this is based on a request! thank you @tia--2323 'Tell Them' Universe

summary: the first time grayson stood up for his mom

Grayson sat on the couch, trying his best to flip through the channels and find something to watch. He had been tasked with keeping Kennedy occupied while his parents talked in the other room.

He wasn’t quite sure what his mom and dad were talking about, but apparently it was very much an adult conversation – given that they told him to take his sister to the living room and turn on the TV. The volume was turned up loud enough that it muffled the sounds of the conversation, but didn’t totally drown it out.

While he had been raised to respect privacy and not eavesdrop on conversations, Grayson couldn’t help it this time. When Y/N told him to take Kennedy to the living room, her voice sounded tired and strained. It roused a fear in his stomach, an unsettling churning somewhere in him that told him he needed to pay attention to this one.

Eavesdropping one time wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“Jake, all that I’m asking is that you stay home! I know you’ve been working late, I know that. But one night, that’s all I’m asking.” His mom’s voice was desperate – pleading even.

And she was right, Jake had been working late. He was coming home well after dinner completely exhausted. Y/N was staying up after bathtime, putting Kennedy to bed and sending Grayson to his room to wind down before bed.

“Y/N, it’ll just be one drink. I should be back in time for bedtime,” Jake said, his tone bordering on dismissive. It made Grayson ear twitch, his fingers making quick work to turn the volume down.

“The kids miss you, Jake – I miss you.” There were tears in his mother’s voice as she spoke, a punch to his gut. He hates that sound, the sound of his mom hurting.

Grayson’s stomach dropped in anticipation, straining his ear to hear what his dad had to say. Jake had always been good with conversations, at least that Grayson is aware of. So surely his dad wouldn’t say anything to make his mom feel worse.

Right?

“You miss me?”

The tone in his father's voice made Grayson sit up straight. He didn’t like that.

“Yes! Of course I miss you! You’re my husband for God’s sake. I’m not trying to control you or saying I don’t trust you. I just want you at home.”

“Then I need you to show me. Because to be honest, home doesn’t feel much like home lately.”

“I do show you, Jake. Every night, I’m waiting for you to get home so you can have dinner. I sit with you even though I am exhausted because I love you and I want to hear about your day. If I didn’t miss you, I wouldn’t do that,” Y/N drew in a shaky inhale, tears closing her throat as she tried not to sob out the last sentence. “And you’re right, home doesn’t feel like home – because you’re not here.”

If his mama’s broken, tearfilled voice didn’t push him off the couch, what Jake tried to pull next certainly would have.

“Oh, so it’s my fault now? You know damn well-”

“Don’t talk to my mom like that.”

Both of his parents looked at him, watching his moves carefully as he put his 12 year-old frame in front of his mother’s.

“Gray-”

“No, Mama, he doesn’t get to talk to you like that,” Grayson said, feeling bad for interrupting her but knowing that he couldn’t let his dad get away with the tone he used.

Grayson fixated his eyes on Jake’s, the similar shades of green meeting each other in a battle.

“You may be the adult here, Dad,” he almost spit the name out, almost mocking the authority it held. “But I’m the son that isn’t letting anyone disrespect his mom, especially not her husband. Not the man that’s supposed to love her.”

Despite the anger in his throat, a twinge of anxiety roused in his chest. He wasn’t worried about anything getting physical, even now he knew his dad would never raise a hand to him. But he didn’t want a verbal argument to ensue, scaring his mom and his baby sister.

But, all Jake did was cross his arms, nodding for Grayson to continue.

It didn’t quell the anxiety, but it helped Grayson to stand up straighter and hold his ground a little firmer.

“I’m here every night. I’ve sat at that table every night for the last eight months and stared at an empty chair. I watched Mom check her phone habitually, waiting for a text or a call from you. Do you know how often she checked the door? Praying a chaplain wasn’t about to ring the bell? How many times I got to the mailbox first so she didn’t have to be the first one to see the letter telling her you weren’t coming home?”

Tears stung Grayson’s eyes and he clicked his jaw as he shook his head. “No one is saying you not being home is your fault. We understand that this is your job. But please, be in the chair, Dad. One night, please.”

Grayson’s vision was slightly blurry, tears clouding his vision as he looked his dad over. He wasn’t sure what to expect from him now.

Jake’s jaw flexed before he cleared his throat. He looked at the floor, hiding his face as his eyes began watering as well. He sniffled, his arms uncrossing so he could put his hands on his hips.

“Okay…”

A weight lifted off of Grayson’s chest and he let the tears fall. He nodded, not bothering to hide his feelings as his voice cracked. “Thank you…”

And, while he was glad he was able to get through to Jake, the issue wasn’t resolved yet.

“Please apologize.”

Jake nodded and patted Grayson on the shoulder, letting him know it was okay to stand down. Grayson took the hint and stepped to the side, his arms now crossing over his chest as he watched his parents interact. He wasn’t going to leave until he knew his mom was okay.

Y/N looked up at Jake, a waiting but patient look on her face. Her arms stayed wrapped around her stomach, clearly still upset.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t fix it and I can’t make excuses. Grayson’s right. I shouldn’t talk to you like that. Not when you do so much for me, for this family. I was out of line, accusing you like that. I’m sorry, I’ll work on it. I love you.”

Y/N nodded, sniffling as they pulled each other into a hug. “Thank you, Honey. I love you, too.” Jake kissed her head, holding his lips there with his fingers in her hair. “Why don’t you go pick out a movie? I want to talk to Grayson for a minute, we’ll be in there in a moment.” She nodded again and pecked his chest before turning to her son.

“I love you, Gray,” she said softly before hugging him and kissing his head. He wrapped his arms around her, smiling against her shoulder. “I love you too, Mama.”

She walked away, shaking out the tension in her hands before wiping her tears and walking to the living room. “Oh, hi baby girl…” Her cheery, motherly tone eased Grayson’s anxieties significantly as he looked at his dad.

Grayson stood up straight, his chest puffing out a little in pride. He didn’t know what Jake was about to say to him, but he would walk away knowing he did the right thing.

Jake leaned against the counter, arms crossed again as he looked at his boots. “That must have been a lot, hearing me talk to your mom like that…” Grayson nodded, his arms crossing as well, “Yes sir. You shouldn’t talk to someone you love that way. Even in arguments.”

His dad nodded, looking up at him. “You’re right, they shouldn’t. Thank you for reminding me of that.” Jake rubbed his jaw, sniffling a little. “I know you know that life won’t always work out that way, and me and your mom won’t always say the kindest things to each other – it doesn’t mean we love each other any less. I’ll spare you that talk, for now.”

“I know,” Grayson said softly, an airy sigh behind his words. “But I don’t like it when she cries. And you shouldn’t be the one making her cry, Dad.”

“You’re right. And I’ll work on it. I’m tired and I’m stressed, but that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have used that tone, I was only making us both more stressed.”

Jake stood up straight, grunting a little as he clapped a hand down on Grayson’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “I’m proud of you, son. For standing up to me like that, standing up for your mother like that.”

Grayson felt the emotions surge in his chest, his arms falling to his side as he swallowed the lump. “I learned from the best.”

Jake gave him a watery smile before pulling him into a hug. “I love you, kid.”

He hugged him back, tightly. “I love you too, Dad.”

it's been awhile since i posted something related to this series! it was really fun jumping back into it! i hope you all enjoyed and i'm so sorry if i missed any tags!

thank you again @tia--2323 for the request! this was so fun to write!

tags <33 ( you can also follow @vinnys-recordcollection and turn on notifs!):

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@mallerz @bananas1234 @mattheoschik @fogle97 @malindacath @pono-pura-vida @jstarr86 @djs8891 @horseslovers2016

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#tell them universe #tell them #telling them #told them #please be in the chair dad #request #jake hangman seresin #jake and wifey #jake and grayson #dad!jake seresin #grayson seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #sarahsmi13s

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withleeknow · 6 months ago

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wishful thinking. (07)

chapter seven: built to break

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; the gorlies are fighting...?, not much for warnings in this chapter ig word count: 4.3k note: i finally got off my ass and wt is finally back lol. i had a last minute change of plans and thought "oh! you know what would be pretty neat? if we prolong the angst so everyone can be sad for longer!" <3 and this is how i announce that the next chapter is not wt8 but wt7.5 and it's written from his pov <3 merry christmas

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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I’ll hold my breath as I wait for your answer I’ll leave it up to you Tell me whether it’s yes or no Baby, love me or leave me tonight

Love Me or Leave Me - Day6

The warning signs, they're there. You can see them before they materialize. You know your own tells.

Your metaphorical bags are packed, your shoes are already on. You're about to run again, leave a half empty house before it has the chance to become a home. No one has to tell you that you're a flight risk; you're well aware of it yourself.

Wednesday Min: got plans tonight? You: booked and busy with ze old canvas Min: tomorrow? You: same thing probably. sorry Min: u're working hard lately You: yeah this one is just driving me crazy and i need it to turn out decent Min: it'll be perfect. it's u

Thursday Min: running errands at the store Min: want me to bring u anything? that caramel popcorn u like?

Friday Min: don't work too hard. remember to eat

That was three days ago, the last time you'd heard from him after you left him on read. It wasn't a complete lie; this project is driving you kinda crazy and you do need it to end up a decent piece, but you weren't exactly holed up in your apartment to slave over your painting. And you suppose Minho didn't find it all that suspicious because you tend to do this sometimes - disappear for a couple of days and force yourself to focus whenever you had a project to finish, before you come back to everybody again. You've come back to him before; it stands to reason that you'll do it again.

It's been about two weeks since you'd seen him, though the memories of that evening are still fresh in your mind - the evening of the group dinner, when he'd kissed you goodnight and left for his parents' house the following day. True to his words, he did send you pictures of the cats - ones of Soonie wearing a matching hoodie with him, a few of Doongie and Dori napping at the foot of his bed. There was an accompanying text - The kids miss you - along with a frowning emoji, and it made you wonder if what he really meant was I miss you.

You wanted him to miss you, because you missed him too.

The photos brought a smile to your face despite the predicament you found yourself in. A smile that was short lived, a smile that was soon wiped off when you realized your heart shouldn't be swelling with that much affection for him. It shouldn't, but the truth was that it did and you don't know how to live with it.

Love isn't something you've ever learned to hold.

It's beautiful yet full of thorns, and your hands are too clumsy to ever keep it from slipping from your fingers.

You remember when you first met Minho. Freshman year, at some popular senior's house party.

It feels like forever ago when you were just an awkward freshman at orientation who didn't have a single clue on how to make friends. Jess was your first friend in college, and you'll always be grateful that you got along well enough that she adopted you into the group with the rest of the guys.

You didn't cross paths with Minho until you were already acquainted with everyone else. On the night of the party, you remember being enamored with him for those couple of hours, and it wasn't the side effect of too many solo cups of cheap beer. Who in their right mind wouldn't be infatuated with him? He was beautiful, absolutely alluring, and you would always tell him as much.

Back then, he had brown hair, slighter shorter than now but it was tinted with the most gorgeous shade of red. You didn't know much about Minho, only been told that he was pretty quiet and might be off-putting to new people. It was sort of true; that night, you were intimidated by the aura he exuded. Mysterious, couldn't be bothered, didn't seem to give a shit. He looked like a scary little thing, while you were the new kid who was only trying to observe everyone's dynamics, not wanting to overstep any unspoken boundary.

To this day, you're still not sure what really happened, how you two immediately clicked and he's been one of the most important parts of your life ever since.

Maybe it was just him. Maybe it's always been him.

Minho, the one who makes you smile when all you want to do is curl up and cry. The one who makes you laugh when you look for joy but the search comes up empty. The one who grounds you every time you lose your way. Your anchor, the safe harbor you can always return to. The light at the end of a long, long tunnel.

You don't know where you stand, don't know where it goes from here now that everything is changing. He told you so himself, that nothing changed for him, but how could he possibly know that everything is changing for you? And it infuriates you to no end because you don't even have anyone to talk about this with. You're the only person whose world is being turned upside down after all.

You can't tell your friends because they can't know about you and Minho. You can't tell Minho because what would you even say? That you think you're in love with him? That the implications of what it means are devastating to you?

For the first time, you regret everything. Kissing him that night, sleeping with him, becoming whatever this is with him. Letting down your guard and falling for him somewhere along the way and you didn't even stop to notice it. You regret all of the decisions you've made up until now, because they've only led you to the point of no return, the point of losing him. You made bad decision after bad decision after bad decision, until you couldn't anymore. All along, there's been no one else to blame but you.

Maybe it hasn't happened yet, but it's inevitable. You will lose him. You are going to lose him.

There's no other ending, no other alternative that you can imagine. You're going to leave because you're a coward and it's what you do best. You ruin things before they get a chance to hurt you. You leave because if you don't leave then you'll be left behind, and you'd rather not bear the brunt of it.

Now, when you think of Minho, the thought is always accompanied by a painful reminder - Nothing changed for him.

When you get to the cafe, Hyunjin and Seungmin are already seated in a corner booth, three drinks in front of them, one of which they'd ordered for you before you arrived.

You slide into the seat next to Hyunjin, smiling at him appreciatively for the drink. There's still over half an hour before you have to walk to your shared class, over half an hour before Seungmin parts ways with you two to do whatever or whoever it is that Seungmin does on his off days.

"I still think it's Nara," Hyunjin says, casually sipping his iced coffee.

"Nara from your Lit class last semester?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

"I saw them talking at a party once."

"Okay. And?"

"And what? That's it."

"That's... all the evidence you have to back up your claim?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

You wave your hands in front of them. "What are you bozos talking about?"

"He’s still trying to figure out who Minho is hooking up with," Seungmin is the one who answers you without missing a beat, then he turns back to Hyunjin. "Anyway, it can't be Nara. She's dating Jaehyun on the basketball team."

The friend next to you flails his arms like a petulant child, like he couldn't have possibly seen this coming, like he was so sure that he had finally solved the mystery. "Great. I'm back to square one again."

You straighten your back and reach for your drink, tentatively gulping down the beverage as if it'll hide the fact that you've gone stiff the second this topic is brought up. You feel bad about it, sure. These are your friends that you're lying to after all. They don't have to look anywhere far; the answer to the secret is right in front of them.

"We're still on about that?" you ask in the calmest, most nonchalant voice you can muster. You usually consider yourself a believable liar (which, to be honest, isn't really a flex at all), but whenever someone mentions this little arrangement between you and Minho that shouldn't be common knowledge for anyone else, you feel like you're been put under a spotlight for the whole world to scrutinize.

"Duh," Hyunjin says. "You know, I'm kinda surprised that you don't know. You two are like, attached at the hip sometimes."

You give him a thoughtless shrug, your hands fiddling with the sticker on the plastic cup as you avoid looking at either of your friends. "Maybe he just wants to keep private things private, y'know? You wouldn't like either if all of us is suddenly all up in your business. And besides, what if it's just casual?"

Hyunjin scoffs. "Please, I'm an open book. I tell you guys everything. I tell you every time I hook up with someone."

"Yeah, but you see, literally no one needs to know that," Seungmin says.

The taller one only scoffs, waving his hands around dismissively in Seungmin's direction before he turns to you. "If it was just casual, would he save her name as - oh my God, I forgot what her contact name is. Freaking bird person or something."

You make a face. "What?"

"Dude, seriously?" Seungmin rolls his eyes. "You forgot one word? Dove? What is the matter with you?"

Perhaps it's the half-hearted teasing judgment in Seungmin's voice that makes Hyunjin take offense and drop the topic. The conversation veers off course when they start bickering like children in the busy cafe. You suppose it works in your favor, but you can't focus. You drown it all out.

Your hand is still on the cup but the sticker has been left alone and forgotten, half peeled off, half still clinging to the plastic underneath the condensation.

The single word repeats itself in your mind, over and over and over again.

The entire time you're in class, you don't really focus on anything. You can't bring yourself to listen to whatever your professor is saying, not after what Hyunjin and Seungmin told you earlier. At some point, your friend has to nudge your shoulder to bring you back down to earth when usually, you're the one who has to remind Hyunjin to pay attention. Class ends soon enough though; time tends to fly by when your mind is lost elsewhere.

"What's wrong with you today?" he asks with his bag slung over his shoulder, slowing down his steps to match your speed as you walk out of the lecture hall together.

You scratch the back of your neck sheepishly. "Nothing's wrong. I was just tired."

"You wanna grab dinner with me and Felix?"

Any other day, you would've agreed in a heartbeat. But today, you want to be alone. Sometimes, you'd rather wallow in your own misery than settle for a temporary distraction.

You're still stuck on the conversation from earlier, on the small detail that Hyunjin and Seungmin had let slip in the cafe.

Dove.

His dove.

Maybe it doesn't mean anything. Perhaps it's only a nickname that he's assigned to you out of mere platonic fondness, but it makes you conscious about the dove on your own wrist nonetheless, the one that you feel compelled to hide from your friends underneath your long sleeve.

"No, it's okay," you tell Hyunjin. "I'll just go home and sleep it off."

"Okay. I can walk you for a bit," he says. "Just wait with me here. Minho's coming to give me back something he borrowed."

"Minho's coming?" you ask too quickly for it to sound casual. There's a panicked edge that you can hear in your own voice, though you don't think Hyunjin picks it up as he unlocks his phone and types something on the screen.

"Yeah, he was at the library. He's coming over right now, should only be a couple minutes. Then I'll walk back with you."

You shift on your feet uneasily, but you cover it up by rubbing your hands on your arms to pretend like you're just cold. There's no excuse that you could think of that would justify why you can't stand here with Hyunjin for just two more minutes, without giving it away the fact that you're avoiding Minho.

You take in a quiet breath, put on your best brave face. Casual, nonchalant. It's just Minho. Just Minho...

He comes up from behind, where you can't see him. A warm hand gently lands on your shoulder, and it takes everything not to shy away from his touch. It takes even more not to lean into his side.

You've missed it. You've missed him.

"Hey." He smiles at you while Hyunjin only gets a nod in acknowledgment.

"Hey." You return the smile, though you're sure you look a little rigid. You can tell there's an inkling of confusion in his eyes when he senses that your energy is off, but you're thankful he doesn't comment on it, at least not in front of Hyunjin anyway.

You don't notice the paper bag in his other hand until he hands it to your other friend with a simple Thanks, to which Hyunjin just nods along in a silent You're welcome.

"I was going to walk with Y/N for a bit and then meet Felix for food," he tells Minho. "You wanna get burgers with me and Lix?"

"No, thanks. I'm not hungry, I had a late lunch. I'll take the walk though."

You didn't plan on being alone with Minho today, even though you knew you had to talk to him eventually. You just thought you had a little more time, at least until you got your shit together and face him with a brave façade.

Minho's hand brushes yours the entire time you walk, and it's nothing if not confusing. It's unbearable, the way your fingers twitch with the urge to intertwine them with his.

It persists even after Hyunjin has waved you goodbye to you two and turned to head wherever he and Felix agreed to meet. You think Minho would hold your hand now that it's just you and him, but he doesn't. He lets your skin continue to brush, lets you suffer alone and wanting in your sunken disappointment.

It has very little to do with him and everything to do with you, the conflicting thoughts inside your head piling up one by one the more time you spend in his presence.

Dove, the brief display of jealousy at Yeonjun's party, the way he looks at you sometimes that you can't really decipher the meaning behind, how he kisses you so tenderly that it can't possibly be strictly platonic. You want these things to all mean something, and yet...

You want him to hold your hand, but you know you'd wave it off if he tries to reach for your fingers. You want him to stop you right then and there to kiss you breathless, just as he had that night two weeks ago, even though you're sure you'd only dodge his lips and push him away. You want to stay, you want to leave. You're terrified of things changing, but you wish that something, anything, would be different for him; that you aren't the only one who's spinning out of control. You love him, but you wish you didn't.

Eventually, Minho asks, "You okay?"

It's not until now that you realize this is the first time you've ever been this quiet around him. You purse your lips, glancing down briefly at your feet as you keep on treading the rest of the way home. "Yeah, all good. I'm just tired," you tell him, visibly unenthusiastic despite the smile you try to fake. "I just need to sleep it off."

"The project stressing you out?"

"I guess, yeah."

"And here I thought maybe you were avoiding me," he says, half a joke, half inquisitive. "Were you?"

"Was I what?"

"Were you avoiding me?"

You give him a weird look, one that's meant to be dismissive and call his question ridiculous even though you know you've been caught. And maybe it's the over-the-top glance that you throw his way and the way your pitch goes higher when you reply, "Why would I be avoiding you?" that makes him stop walking.

On the other side of the street, there's a couple of kids in high school uniforms, exchanging shy glances and sharing fond giggles.

Minho calls your name softly, and it's like you're just waiting for the ball to drop. You don't want to turn back and look at him, but what other option do you have? What else is there to do?

You can't decipher the expression on his face. He's still calm, but the air has turned serious, the silence of the mostly empty streets surrounding you only serves as the soundtrack of your impending heartbreak. The tender and innocent laughter fades away when young love moves further and further from where you stand. "What?" you ask with faux nonchalance as you look at him, another attempt at stalling. Biding your time even though a few more minutes aren't going to do any good for your case.

Anyone with half a braincell could tell that clearly it's not the truth, let alone someone who has learned to read you better than the back of his hand. He doesn't look like he believes you, though he doesn't push it, much to your surprise.

"Okay," he says after a moment of studying you, and this should be the part where you heave a sigh of relief because he's letting you off the hook for now, but your chest doesn't feel lighter at all. Your head is clouded with dread, with the anticipation that you're only delaying the inevitable.

You walk the rest of the way in awful silence, because you know that he knows something is wrong. You try your best to appear composed, but he sees right through you. You know he does.

You must look like a frightened animal, one that's about to take off running any second now.

When you reach your building, Minho is quick to keep you with him before you can make up a lame excuse and bolt.

"Hey," he starts, his voice so impossibly gentle that it hurts. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Heavier and heavier, it weighs you down until you feel like your chest is going to collapse. The nerves gnaw on you, clawing into you until you feel your heartbeat quicken, the overwhelming dread simmering low in your belly.

"I know," you say, but deep down, what you're really thinking is, Not this. This is the one thing I can't tell you.

"Is everything okay?"

It's the way that Minho's got his gaze set on you with those deep brown irises, the concern so apparent in them that it hurts you. It's the way he looks like he wants to reach out and touch you - a comforting hand on your shoulder or your back like you're so familiar with - but he has to hold himself back or you might slip away.

It's him, how he always puts you first, how he cares about you in ways that you've never been cared about before. He understands you, he sees you. It feels like it could be love if you let the lines blur just enough.

Is love supposed to hurt? Like this?

Maybe it's not that you don't know how to hold love. Maybe it's because you're not meant to hold it at all. Insignificant, unlovable.

And... it's the reminder that cuts through the dread like the sharpest knife.

You leave his question unanswered, because nothing is okay and you can't tell him any of it. You can't lie to him either, because it's the last thing that you want to do to him.

Instead, you ask, "We're good... right? We're okay?"

"What do you mean?"

You gesture between the two of you, though you're not sure what that's supposed to signify. "Just...," you trail off for a second, hesitant. "Nothing's changed, right?"

Minho doesn't answer right away. He looks at you for a moment, searching for something in your eyes that you can't tell if he's able to find.

He nods, seemingly wistful as he says, "Nothing's changed."

He seems unsure about it, at least more than he was just a few weeks ago when he told you the same thing in your apartment with his fingers wrapped around your wrist. The tug between his brows - though barely noticeable - tells you as much.

Is it because something is different now? Or does he only sound uncertain out of concern, because of you and how you're acting?

Then he continues, "For me, at least."

And there it is.

It's the confirmation this time around that turns you inside out so his simple words could cut into you.

You swallow thickly, put on a smile like you're pleased with his answer even though you're trying your hardest to stop yourself from shaking. Whatever energy you had left is instantly drained from you just because of a few words.

Your sentences get smashed together, tangled up like barbed wire and they only make you bleed when you try to pull them apart. All your nervous tics coming out to play despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. A frustrated hand running through your hair, gripping at the roots a little harshly. Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth and your eyes turning glassy for a split second before you blink the moisture away, because you can't let Minho see you like this. See you trying to keep your pathetic heart intact while he's none the wiser.

He's fine. And unlike you, he's going to be okay when this is over.

Unavoidable and inevitable, the end will come whether you like it or not. You're the only one who won't make it out unscathed, and it will only shatter you into more pieces the longer you drag this out.

Just rip the bandaid off. Salvage whatever you can. Stop digging the grave even deeper for yourself.

One second, then two, then three. You don't speak until you have enough faith that your voice is even enough to carry out a few sentences.

"Okay, uhm... I think I need some time for myself. We should..." But it isn't, and you crack halfway through. The sound is deafening to your own ears. "We should take a break. We should stop this."

Minho doesn't question if you mean the secret between the two of you, or your friendship entirely. Instead, he asks, "Why?"

"I told you." You clear your throat. "I need time for myself."

You can't tell what he's thinking, but the knife twists inside of you nonetheless.

He takes a step closer, you take a step back.

You watch as his face falls, and the same feeling mirrors itself within the confines of your ribcage. Your heart drops at the sight of his eyes, deep brown irises stained with a little confusion, then a little hurt though it lasts for only a few seconds. The slight slump of his shoulders, the absence of the familiar playfulness he always sports when he's with you.

He blinks.

"Time for yourself, or time away from me?"

You say nothing.

You don't address his question directly, and your reluctance to do so is a loud enough answer in and of itself. "Why does that matter? What's the difference?"

"It matters if I did something to upset you."

"You didn't."

"Okay. So?"

This is confusing, because he's not letting you rip the bandaid clean off and you don't know why. "Nothing's changed, right? If it didn't mean anything to you, why can't you just drop this?"

Minho is quiet for a beat. His eyes are searching again, but this time, you think he finds something.

Everything is still and you hate it - the silence of the streets, the scrutinizing orange glow of the streetlights as if they're watching the scene unfold, even the innocent cat that's sitting by itself on the balcony on one of the floors higher up. You hate all of it.

"I never said it didn't mean anything," he tells you.

It makes you a little angry for some reason, and there's enough red to cloud your vision because his words are contradicting and you're tired, you're so exhausted that you can't focus on what it is that he's really saying.

"So you lied to me?"

"I've never lied to you."

"I asked you before and you said nothing's changed. Now you're saying whatever this is didn't not mean anything. Make up your mind."

It gets redder when he keeps his eyes fixed on you, still so calm despite the frown that has returned to its place between his brows. Still so collected, while you're being pulled apart at the seams.

The ball doesn't drop the way you expect it to. It keeps falling so insufferably slowly, hanging over you like it's mocking you for being stupid, like it's milking every second of suspense to make you implode.

Until Minho speaks next and suddenly, it feels like the air has been sucked out of your lungs. His voice, still so soft and tender. His eyes, reading something in yours that you can't bear to admit out loud.

"You really don't see it, do you?"

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musings-of-a-rose · 4 days ago

Text

My First, My Last, My Always - a PedroStories Secret Santa Exchange Event

Pairing: Francisco “Frankie” Morales x f!reader

Word Count: 2751

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: @prolix-yuy My beloved LJ - when I got your name, I literally squeed! And then felt an immediate sense of “omg will I be able to write something worthy of her?” I thought and thought about what to write for you and then I had it. I have had this idea for a Frankie fic since I started posting back in late 2021, but I’d never written it. I even had a name for it and a plot line! Now I know it’s because I was saving it for you. Have a very happy whatever you celebrate and know that not only are you extremely talented, you are one of the nicest people I’ve had the pleasure of knowing.

**This is for the @pedrostories Secret Santa exchange event!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

I met Frankie when we were 5. I had just moved to the neighborhood, in the middle of summer. Which meant no school, so no way to make friends. A few days later, as my parents were unpacking, I sat on the couch, leaning on the back of it to stare out the front window. To my surprise, on the front porch of the house across the street from me sat a boy. He had his head in his hands and looked a little sad and lonely, his brown hair and loose curls sticking at odd angles, like he had woken up and come outside.

“Mom, can I go say hi to the boy across the street?” I ask, already getting off the couch.

My dad glances through the front window, seeing the boy on the steps. “Sure. See if he wants to play soccer.” He tosses me a soccer ball that he had just unpacked, which I miss.

I grab it and head outside, walking straight towards the boy. He doesn’t seem to pay me any mind until I’m on his lawn. He looks up at me, furiously wiping at his eyes.

“Hi!” I say, smiling at him.

“H-hi,” he replies, his eyebrows furrowing together.

We sat there in silence for a few moments. “Do you want to play soccer?”

He sniffs. “Yeah, sure.” He stands, coming to meet me in his yard. We end up just kicking the ball back and forth for a minute. His shoulders are still slumped, like he’s carrying something heavy. I stop the ball with my foot, taking a step closer to him.

“Are you ok?” I ask, my face full of concern.

“ ‘m fine,” he mumbles.

“It’s ok if you’re sad. I am too,” I confess. He looks at me, cocking his head.

“You’re sad?”

I nod. “Yeah. We just moved here. My dad got a new job. I had to leave my friends.”

He nods. “Sorry about your friends.”

I shrug. “Thanks. So are you ok?”

He looks at his house and then back at me, coming closer. “I don’t even know you.”

I tell him my name. “But call me Rea.”

“Frankie….my parents fight a lot. Sometimes it’s too loud. I come out here to get some quiet.”

“Oh. Well, if you want, you can come over to my house whenever you need to get away.”

His eyes widen, filling with a light I hadn’t seen yet. “I can? You mean it?”

I nod, a smile forming on my face. “Yeah! We can play games, my mom makes great snacks, and my dad is building me a treehouse soon!”

From that day on, Frankie and I were inseparable. We lucked out in being placed in the same classroom that fall, Frankie taking me on a tour of the school. He told me what bathrooms were stinky and what kids were mean. He came over pretty much every day, my parents taking an immediate liking to him when I came back home with him. I did overhear them saying something about that poor boy, but they never complained. Frankie was there for family game night, pizza night, and movie nights. My parents took him to the county fair with us, the zoo, and our weekly trips to the library, where I would get every book they had on drawing and Frankie would pick out books on flying. He once told me he wanted to be a pilot.

Middle school is pretty much the first time we spent away from each other, since some of our classes were different. He took shop and I took art, trying to hone my skills as an artist as it brought me so much joy. I don’t know how I would’ve survived middle school without his presence, his strength to help me through a really rough transition time. He would claim it was all me supporting him, but I think we just work well together.

In 8th grade, Frankie came over for pizza night as usual, us heading out into our treehouse after to hangout and watch a movie on a tv I had carted up there with a long extension cord. It had a vhs player in it and so we would watch whatever we could rent. We settled down and got comfortable, a bowl of popcorn between us.

“Hey, Rea?” Frankie looks nervous, not quite looking at me.

“Yeah?” My words are garbled because of the popcorn in my mouth.

He clears his throat, still not looking at me. “Have you kissed anyone yet?”

I stop chewing. I had wondered if the boys talked like the girls, as that’s all they could talk about. Kissing boys. I hadn’t thought about it at all, until it felt like I was the only girl who hadn’t kissed anyone yet.

“Uh…no. You?” My stomach fluttered like it had butterflies in it and I didn’t know why.

“N-no.” We sat there for a moment, the movie continuing on in the background. “Maybe we could kiss each other? So we could say we did it?”

My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest. I hadn’t felt like this before, other than the time Frankie took my hand at the fair and guided me through the haunted mansion that we’d been through a dozen times a few weeks back.

“Oh. Uh, y-yeah.”

Frankie sits up, finally looking at me. “You sure? I just thought since we knew each other it wouldn’t be weird.”

I sit up too. “Yeah. Makes sense.”

After a few awkward body shifts, he pressed his lips to mine and the butterflies in my stomach went wild. And when he broke the kiss I’ll admit, I was more than a little sad. His face still close to mine, he gave me a small smile, those dimples on display.

“There. Now we’ve each kissed someone.”

I didn’t realize it at the time, but that first kiss was when things changed, I think. We started high school that next year, our schedules separating us further. Frankie joined ROTC (Reserve Officer’s Training Corps) and I joined the art club, my parents surprising me with private instruction from a local artist that I admired. We still saw each other at lunch, and he was still over at our house more often than not, these days more because of whomever his mom was currently dating. But everything felt…different. I brushed it off, not knowing how to put it into words.

Then, our senior year, Frankie came to me with another proposition. Neither of us had been intimate with someone else, and who better than someone we know and trust? The boys had been talking about it and the girls had definitely been talking about it. I wasn’t against the idea of sex. I just never got around to it. So when Frankie proposed the idea at our weekly movie after pizza night, I agreed, that familiar butterflies in my stomach feeling coming flooding back.

In true Frankie fashion, he came prepared and had studied. He set up the treehouse with extra cushions and candles, putting flowers everywhere, with some music in the background. He already knew about protection and knew how to use it, shyly admitting he had asked his friend Santi how to put one on. Frankie was gentle with me, making sure I was ok as we both shared this experience. After, we laid together in the blankets, Frankie holding me to his side as his fingers traced the skin on my hip, both of us content to just be with the other.

Things didn’t technically change between us, aside from another romp or 2 in the hay, so to speak. I didn’t understand why he never asked me out until a couple months later, when he told me he signed up for the army.

“Go to college, Rea. Get that art degree and make millions off your drawings. You’re amazing.”

And while I shed many tears, I did just as he asked, even driving him to the airport on his way to basic, where he gently kissed me and told me to live my life, but don’t forget to write.

I wrote to Frankie often, chronicling my college life as he told me about his, once his time in basic training was up. We still had weekly calls where I would tell him about my drawings, and he would tell me animatedly about learning to fly helicopters and also that his friend Santi was with him too.

I was the first one he told about going for a special forces group, Delta Force, and his acceptance there. Santi’s too. Sometimes it would be a few weeks between us chatting, but I understood. He was dealing with literal life and death scenarios. Or at least preparing for them.

I picked him up every time he came home from tour, sometimes with a girl on his arm. I’ll admit the first time I saw it, a part of me envisioned leaping on the poor girl and tearing her eyes out. But I had remind myself that he was overseas and I’m sure it gets lonely and I’m glad he had someone to comfort him, no matter how much I wished it was me. I dated too after that, the longest one sticking around for about 8 months before I caught him cheating on me with his secretary. Which is incredibly cliche of him.

I eventually graduated with an art history degree, getting a job at a local art gallery and selling my own drawings on the side. It was a pretty awesome deal, getting to work and do the thing that I love. I sometimes worry it would end badly, mixing business with pleasure. But it ended up being the opposite.

Frankie and I still talked, but over the years our calls became less and less frequent. Sometimes I was away on an art bid and other times he was on a mission, gone for weeks at a time. He would still check in from time to time to at least let me know he was alive. His absence left a hole in my heart though. He was my one constant through life, the person I could share anything with, my first for a lot of things. The few words we did exchange helped me to get to the next call, which I know is unhealthy, but not matter what I did, I couldn’t fill the void he left behind.

Present Day

“Are you sure you’ll be ok?” My mom asks me for the millionth time.

I chuckle into the phone. “YES mom. You guys won a cruise! Go celebrate Christmas on the high seas. I’ll come visit when you get back.”

“Well…if you’re sure. I- no! You will absolutely NOT be wearing a speedo on the cruise! Rea I have to go talk some sense into your father. We’ll call you when we get back.”

I laugh this time. “Have fun mom.” In the background before I hang up, I hear my father playfully yell. “Hey! Give me back my man panties!”

My laugh turns into a sigh as I look around my condo. I had been packing to head to my parent’s home in the morning to spend Christmas Day and a few days after with them. I unpack and head into the kitchen, pulling out a couple of steaks to rest before cooking them. I’ll make extra and then not have to cook on Christmas. Sounds like a plan to me. I make some hot chocolate and settle on my couch, a thick Christmas themed blanket thrown over my legs. I’m about to take a sip when I hear a knock at my door. I set my mug down and toss the blanket off. My neighbor is a little senile and sometimes locks herself out of her apartment. In one of her clear moments, she gave me a spare key to let her into hers, in case it was during a time when her nurse wasn’t around. I unlock the door and open it, her name poised on my lips. But instead I’m met with the biggest, brown puppy dog eyes that I’ve ever seen.

“Hey, Rea. You’re home.”

Shocked. I am stunned. “I..y-yeah. So are you?” Nice. Good one.

He smile, those dimples showing off as he rubs at the back of his head, the Standard Oil Heating cap I’d given him from our road trip across the state still on top. “Yeah.” It’s quiet for a moment. “Can I come in?”

“What? Oh. Yeah! Come in.” I step back to let him in, giving him extra space for the bag slung on his back. He sets it down just inside the door, kicking off his boots too.

“Are you ok?” I ask him, noting the scar on the bridge of his nose and a fresh cut on his cheek.

“I am now.” Silence between us, like we haven’t talked our entire lives. Although it had been a few months since I’d spoken to him, outside of my unanswered letters.

“Did you want some-” I start, hitching my thumb over my shoulder to point towards the kitchen.

“I almost died.”

A hole opened in my stomach and my heart fell right into it. “What?”

He nods, taking the cap from his head to wring it between his hands, but not before running his fingers through those soft brown curls. “I can’t give you details. Classified. But I almost died. I mean, I saved us all, but if I hadn’t moved my head…”

“Oh Frankie!” I throw my arms around him, the time that we hadn’t talked dissolving in an instant. His arms wrap around me, his face pressing into my hair.

“I love you, Rea.”

“I love you too, Frankie.”

“No,” He takes a breath. “I’m in love with you.”

Those familiar butterflies that only he seems to put there come back, like they’d never left. I break the hug and take a step back, trying to look at his face. Surely he’s kidding right? This is all some joke that I don’t understand?

“We were spiraling and the engines wouldn’t cut back on and all I could think about was you. How I had this amazing friend in my life for most of my life who never judged me for where I came from or what I wore, who always supported me no matter what, who let me get pineapple on my pizza even though she hated it just because she knows I like it. She always saw me for me. And how I was so fucking stupid for never seeing it before and yet, somehow knowing I’ve been in love with you since that first kiss. I made a promise that if I got out of there alive, the first thing I’d do is come tell you, in person how I feel. And I know it’s sudden, and I know you may not even feel the same. Hell, I don’t know if you even have a boyfriend. I know I’ve been a shitty friend lately, but I-”

I grip his shirt and pull him to me, pressing my lips to his. For a moment, he doesn’t move, shocked by my reply. But then he snaps out of it, his hands coming up to cup my face as he presses his tongue against my lips. I part mine every slightly, whimpering slightly when he pushes his tongue past my lips. One hand drops from my face, outstretched behind me as he walks me backwards, his hand hitting the wall before he pushes me up against it, that same hand cupping my face again before tracing down my body to squeeze at my hip. I wrap my leg around him, pulling him closer as my fingers tangle in his soft curls. But then he pulls back, just enough to look me in the eyes.

“I take it this means you feel the same?” He’s smiling, but he’s also serious.

“I’ve been waiting for this since our first kiss. But I don’t think I understood it then.”

Frankie groans. “What a stupid couple of assholes.” We chuckle together, his nose brushing against mine.

He smiles, his eyes getting that big puppy eye look to them. “So you’ll be my first and my last?”

I smile back. “As long as you’re mine.”

Within a few months, we’re married. Our first, our last, and our always.

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe

@greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi

@wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso

@theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz

@gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox

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@mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk

#frankie catfish morales #francisco morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #pedro pascal #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character ff #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales x f!reader #francisco catfish morales #pedrostories #pedrostoriesgift2024

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onlinedolly · 27 days ago

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MY SISTER VI

au where you’re vis pretty little sister and she’s a fighter in the undercity to make ends meet >/<

cw: incest, shower sex, reader getting fingered and eaten out, spitting, overstim, errreerm i think that’s it

an: just like always i write dark/dead dove content. please be aware of my cw and don’t read if it makes you uncomfy. and MDNI! also not proof read (sry not sry)

you’d been here plenty of times before, patching vi up in the small apartment you two shared. she winched as you placed the rag against her skin and you simply pressed harder against her, angry she was even coming home this late with these kind of bruises.

“easy, kid, god.” vi winches out, as she reaches down and grabs your wrist between her bigger calloused hand.

“‘m not a kid,” you spoke defensively, cleaning around an area that had fresh blood on it, “and it wouldn’t hurt so much if you didn’t get yourself in these situations.” you spoke bluntly at her, wrapping the bandage around the place on her stomach.

“i know i know,” she brushes off your comments, patting your head as you finish up, “but if i don’t fight how do we eat hm, baby sister?” she got you there. but still, there had to be an easier way to make money. vi didn’t like you working, after losing your parents and your sister vi didn’t like you doing much of anything, not when you’re all she had left.

after she was all bandaged she pulled her shirt down, leaning against the front of the couch on the floor spread out. she holds her arms open our wide for you, waiting expectantly.

“c’mere baby,” she spoke, gesturing for you, “missed you so much tonight.”

you smile softly, never able to stay mad at vi for too long, before you crawl into her arms. you were in a shirt of hers, long and oversized on you as you cuddled up against her frame. she smelled like sweat and flowers as you breathed her in.

“you stink,” you tease out, causing her to gasp and push you, laughing.

“yeah?” she laughed softly, nosing into your neck, “maybe you should help me get cleaned up, hm?” she whispered, placing a small kiss to your collar bone.

vi and your relationship would be described as anything but normal, you’d always been close, losing the people you cared about at a young age, leaving vi to the parenting. and parenting she did; no friends she didn’t approve of, no social media, no going into the undercity without her she was a helicopter parent if you’d ever seen one.

but that’s not what made your relationship peculiar, no. when you’d turned eighteen that’s when she started getting extremely affectionate. kisses on your neck, your head, your lips. at first it seemed innocent enough in your incredibly sheltered eyes, until she began touching. small touches at first, on your thigh, on your hip, until she worked up the courage to stick her hand under your shirt. telling you she just wanted to show you how much she loved you, really, that’s all.

it didn’t feel a lot like love when she was pinching your nipples, or coaxing an orgasm out of you with her tongue. it felt like something else entirely, something that made your stomach churn and your thighs rub together as she currently had been working kisses from behind your ear down to your collarbone.

“whadda say, hm?” she whispers, running a hand up under your shirt, “help me freshen up?”

who were you to refuse as you nod your head eagerly. before you know it she’s dragging you into the bathroom, taking her top off of you. your breasts pop out, puffy nipples hard as you feel embarrassed under her intense gaze.

“don’t be embarrassed, cupcake.” she speaks out sweetly, bringing a hand to brush it over your hard nipple, “ain’t nothing i haven’t seen before, yeah?”

you nod, face flushed as you watch her undress. she was all muscle and beaten up as she gets naked in front of you and you lean in to run your fingers down the outline of her back tattoo.

“askin’ for trouble kid,” she laughs out turning the water on. you pull your sticky panties down as she hops in, holding a hand out of you to step in.

once in the shower together you take her in fully, her body is bigger then yours, all muscle and intimidating and it made you shiver at the thought. the hot water hits your back and you grab the shampoo leaning up and pressing your breasts against her own as rub the shampoo in her hair.

showers with vi, for you two, weren’t anything out of the ordinary. vi used the excuse of lowering the water bill at first, but that was before she’d started sticking her fingers inside of you. you rinse the shampoo out of her hair, moving on to the conditioner, and if looks could kill vi would have you six feet under. she looked at you with a lust filled look, hunger filling her features as you go to rinse the conditioner out.

before you could move on to washing her body she had you pinned against the shower wall, hand on your hip as she licked her lips.

“look so pretty f’me.” she slurs out, leaning in to press more kisses to your neck. you shudder and flush as you wrap your arms around you older sister, feeling her muscles and scars under soft hands.

her hands move to your hips, gripping them hard as you whine under her touch.

“vi please,” you whine out at her, digging you manicured nails into her back.

eventually, she moves to where you need her the most, your hot and wet under touch. with a free hand vi leans over and turns the water off before running a single finger up your slit making you jump in anticipation.

“be good girl and wait, kay, cupcake?” she hoarsely asks and you can tell she’s holding back just as much as she’s asking you too.

slowly she pries your thighs apart with her hand, testing the waters by pressing her thumb against your clit making you cry out.

“that’s what i like to hear baby, do it again f’me.” she presses against your clit again, and you meet her with the same reaction you did before, mewling under her touch as she begins a slow pace circling around your bud.

“oh, vi,” you moan out, nails digging into her back. she moans appreciatively, pressing harder into your bundle of nerves as her free hand comes up to pinch one of your nipples meanly. “ouch, vi, ow,” you whine out wriggling underneath her.

“shhh, it can’t hurt that bad,” she mocks, slinking her fingers from your clit to tease your tight hole. when she inserts a finger you almost slip from the sensation you feel, jumping against her as she sinks herself inside. one finger at first, enough to work you up good, leave you a moaning mess as you bite into her neck so you don’t alert the neighbors.

she groans, slotting another finger next to her first, stretching you out deliciously as she begins a steady pace of in and out. you want to scream out, and you almost do, if it weren’t for the way vi has her free hand pushing your head into her neck muffling you. she picks the pace up as she feels you tighten around her fingers, fucking you rough and fast. you’re a panting mess at this point, biting and kissing at her neck to keep the neighbors from hearing how your big sister was fucking you.

you cum hard, twitching as she holds you up, still fucking her fingers into your tight cunt. you dig your fingers into her hair pulling, which she groans appreciatively over, pushing her lips into yours as you come undone around her.

once your orgasm dies down you hold onto her body and shiver, “thank you vi,” you whisper so sweetly and she just chuckles running her hands through your hair.

“don’t go thanking me yet baby, we ain’t even close to done.” vi laughs out, and before you know it she’s sinking to her knees.

“no vi, i can’t take anymore,” you whine, and in a feebly unsuccessful attempt you try to pull her up. but to no avail she sits on her knees and brings her face to your cunt, blowing on it and relishing in the way you shake.

“you can and you will.” she demands, leaning forward and licking a stripe from your clit to your pretty hole. you whine, the overstimulation borderline painful as you grab her hair and try to yank her away.

but the she begins, like a man starved, lapping at your cunt and circling your clit with her wet tongue. “vi i said i c-cant,” you sob out, you feel like your legs are going to give in and you’re going to collapse ontop of her (not that she’d let you). she shushes you before going back to work, licking at your pussy feverishly as she works her way down to your hole.

she kitten licks around your hole teasingly before shoving her tongue all the way in, making you mewl underneath her touch. she fucks your with her tongue, pushing it in and out, before working her way back up to your clit, kissing it a couple times before licking it over and over again.

you feel red hot under her and you can feel another orgasm working its way into your body. you’re body was exhausted from the last time you orgasmed and you attempt to push her away again, pulling on her hair as you try to rip her from your drooling cunt. “vi stop, please, i’m gunna— im gunna—“ and you do. you cum harder then you have in a while and it’s almost painful the way it sends your body convulsing. but she doesn’t let up, licking you through you orgasm until she was surely satisfied.

once you’ve finished orgasming she places a small kiss against your clit making you twitch and works her way up, kissing along the curve of your body until she makes it to your lips. vi, with two fingers, taps at your jaw and you open wide, obediently as a sting of spit leaves her mouth and goes into yours.

you can taste yourself. it’s sour and pungent on you’re tongue as you force yourself to swallow. she leans in, wrapping her big hand around your face before smiling that same smug smile you’ve seen a million times before.

“are you going to wash my body, or what, tiny thing?” she muses, handing you the loofa like she wasn’t just between your legs.

you and your sister had a peculiar relationship, not that either of you minded, but it was yours. and you loved her.

#vi arcane #vi x reader #tw.incest #vi smut #ೃ mars writes !#arcane #dead dove do not eat #tw.dark content #i love big sister vi omg

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nicherayyy · 7 months ago

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Niche!! Im glad to see u back!! How are you doing?

I had this scenario in my mind about La Squadra x child reader and im sorry if my asks are too much but I love the way you write this entire concept so much, i rlly hope you don’t mind if I share some of my scenarios and thoughts.

There was this video , the closest I could find to the original (besides that annoying robotic voiceover, I apologise )

I thought it was so cute because I can only imagine this w Pros. Imagine receiving a crumb of this mans affection😭 Like ofc he tries to look professional, even at home, but for his kid?? I think he would appreciate it, especially if reader is not really the cuddly type as they get older. Maybe there will be a pat on the back or head, or a genuine smile, letting you know that even if you get older he will still love you the same. He will still fight for you, protect you and root for you- because you are his child. I like to imagine Ghiaccio too- he would try to ask what you are doing as you simply settle against him, just wanting to show some affection. he won’t complain once he realized what you were trying to do- on the inside he is like 🥺. You are his kid and he will not deny your hugs, wrapping his arms around you and leaving the laptop he previously worked on aside- even if Formaggio or Illuso come barging in, teasing him and all, he will make a note to beat them up later-but for now he will enjoy this moment between you two (Cue these two idiots wanting hugs too, but you will never catch Illuso alive saying that)

Hiii! I’m doing great, thanks for asking <3

And no, I absolutely love this type of requests, so don’t worry abt it!!

Okay so here’s the hcs

Teenage Reader hugging their Father Figure from La Squadra

Oh yes, Risotto Nero. Stoic leader of the most feared assassin group

And a loving father

Just imagine this tall, intimidating man cuddling his child😭💔

And of course, as reader was younger, they used to cuddle all the time

Reader returned from school? Cuddles

Reader is getting ready for bed? Yeah, could someone (*cough cough* Risotto) give them a cuddle?

So yeah, reader is basically a cuddle bug

But after some years of course, cuddles became a rare occurrence

(Which Risotto was very sad about)

But he understood, maybe reader just didn’t want to, or think that cuddles are for children

So when teenage reader just crawled into Risotto’s arms just like in old times..

The man literally melted

Immediately hugged reader back

He didn’t even realise how much he missed this😭

“If I’m too heavy I can stand up”

“Please don’t”

Literally so happy

With Prosciutto it’s a bit different

Of course, even after reader got older he still gives them some pats on a head and words of encouragement

I mean, it’s his child, he loves them to death

But still, he wasn’t an affectionate type of parent

And when reader crawled into his lap he immediately got still

For a few seconds he didn’t know what to do

“Is it okay? If you don’t want to cuddle—“

“I do want to cuddle”, he hugged reader back

Okay let me tell you Pesci is so sad when reader stop wanting to cuddle

Like.. why don’t they want to cuddle?

Did he do something and now reader hates them?

Where’s his cuddly baby?😭

But he made peace with it after some time

I mean, reader is a teenager now

And I guess it’s not so cool for teenagers to hug with their dad

So when reader just randomly hugged him..

He cried

And of course hugged reader back

“Wha- why are you crying?”

“I’m just *sob* so happy”

Melone is a cuddle bug himself

Like he LOVES to cuddle

It’s his favourite way to show people that he cares for them

So when his child got older and stopped to cuddle he was really sad

He knew it was normal, reader got older and maybe they just stopped liking this type of affection

And of course he didn’t expect to get a hug from them when he was working on his laptop

The speed with which he put aside all of his tasks😭

Mf was over the moon with happiness

“You have no idea how happy I am right now”

Okay I believe Ghiaccio won’t tolerate any cuddles

Unless those cuddles are from reader

I mean they’re his child, why wouldn’t he want cuddles from them?

But of course he won’t show it

Imagine reader crawling into his arms and he’s like:

“What are you doing?”

“Cuddling”

“Okay”

HE LOVES IT

Even is he’s just sitting on the couch with poker face, he still will hug reader back

And if someone (*cough* Formaggio *cough* Illuso) tries to tease him about it.. well Ghiaccio would handle it later

Let’s just hope this someone has enough time to stay frozen

Speaking about Illuso

I think he like cuddles

But he rarely initiates them

Of course he loves giving his child affection, only he prefers to show his love with words or gift giving

But still he would appreciate the hug from reader

“Oh so you still love your old man? How sweet of you”

The same as Melone, Formaggio is a cuddle bug

But let’s be fr, he loves all types of affections

Pats on the back, words of encouragement, you name it

He always initiates cuddles with reader

And he’s got kinda used to the fact that only he initiates them

So when reader initiated hugs first—

“OH MY GOD FINALLY”

He immediately hugged reader back

And I mean this tight bear hug

Definitely won’t let reader go for a few minutes

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garricks4thwingqueen · 4 months ago

Note

*Whispers* angry love confession with Garrick after years of pining?

After All This Time Garrick Tavis X Reader

Word Count: 1950

Irish Gaelic for old Tyyrish: Princess - banphrionsa.

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angstyness.

Two years prior to Fourth Wing

Y/N POV

You woke up at 5:30 a.m. the morning that Garrick had to leave for Basgiath. You looked over to your right where the gentle sleeping giant teddy bear lay. No you and Garrick weren’t a thing even though you had a crush on him for as long as you remember but you remember overhearing Xaden’s warning speech to Garrick that you as Xaden’s little sister were off limits for well forever. And now after the uprising of parents you and Garrick were now foster siblings so anything more should be pushed to the back of your minds right? Wrong. Your heart felt so heavy this morning as Garrick stirred awake. He was leaving to start the school of hell; and you were going to be stuck here in a foster home that was probably the worst placement for all 107 of you. At least Garrick was going to get to see Xaden again. You just hoped that they would both survive their first two years so you could see them both when you started your first year at Basgiath War College.

Garrick’s POV

“Good Morning Princess.” “Tis not.” Y/N huffed, crossing her over her chest. “Oh come on please don’t be pouty for me. We aren’t going to see each other for another two years.” “Or never.” I sat up in bed cupping her cheek. “Hey let’s not think about that yay?” “Yay ok sorry.” She mumbled with a sigh. “Let’s go get some breakfast before I have to leave in three hours.” She nodded her head slowly getting out of bed. “Come here.” I said holding my arms out. “It’s going to suck for us both but it's going to be ok. I promise. My banphrionsa. I will always find you no matter what and maybe one day we can truly be together.”

Y/N POV

Garrick had said to you after breakfast that morning after breakfast placing a soft kiss on your forehead before leaving for Basgiath. It took everything in you to not run after him and get a real kiss. A real kiss that you may never get.

Y/N POV

633 August AU

It had been almost three full weeks since you had been reunited with your brother and Garrick as well as Imogen, Liam and your cousin Bodhi. But gods was it hard keeping your true feelings for Garrick pushed down. You weren’t 5 year old little kids anymore; even Imogen was starting to pick fun at your not so subtle glances at Garrick or your subtle reactions or over reactions when other girls started to flirt with the now third year cadet.

Garrick’s POV

It was now three weeks since I had seen you again. I was shaking out of my wandering thoughts by Bodhi as I stood watching you spare another first year cadet. “Like what you're seeing Tavis?” Bodhi chuckled. “Lay off Durran. At least she can still fight.” I smirked as I watched you walk towards your water bottle after you had won the match of the Matthias girl. “Like what you see Tavis?” You smirked at me on your way back over. “I-” “Oh he absolutely does.” Bodhi chuckled. “Wanna take a picture so it’ll last longer?” She asked and did a twirl that landed you in front of my chest. I chuckled deeply. “Miss me princess?” “Terribly.” “Careful your brother is in ear shot.” “Maybe I don’t care what Xaden thinks anymore.” “Maybe you should care what he thinks.” Xaden huffed from my right. “Maybe you should stop pining after the Sorrengail girl if you want to care about mine and Garrick’s relationship.” I chuckled at your remark and how quickly the smirk faded on Xaden’s face. “I just care that you're safe. Is that too much to ask of my little sister?” Xaden snapped. “You know I could choose to be with any of these other cadets in this hell hole; say Ridoc perhaps. You should be lucky I’ve been pinning for Garrick since we were kids, foster brother or not.”

I growled at your response to Xaden. “You will not be with any other cadet in this god damns school.” “Overprotective Gary?” She giggled. “Damn straight for gods knows how many years I’ve been wanting you and god forbid that I’ll let being foster siblings or your actual brother get in the way of us anymore Y/N. I swear if anyone tries and stop us now I will have Chradh char them right where they are standing.” “You're mine and mine alone and finally safe with me.”

Y/N POV

Damn this was hot. You thought to yourself. You knew it would be heated, maybe a tad bit of anger in the air when you and Garrick finally confessed feelings for each other. But god's damn was he really your over protective Gare Bear. “Safe in Basgiath. That’s kinda ironic isn’t” You smirked slowly wrapping your arms around Garrick’s waist, making sure to look at Xaden; who now was standing arms crossed angrily over his chest. You smiled as Garrick chuckled softly; “Yeah, I guess it’s ironic, but you're safe with me. No one will touch you while I’m around, no one can say anything harmful. You understand that banphrionsa?” You nod your head burying it into his chest. “No one but you.” You said quietly. “What was that princess?” “No one but you. I’m yours.”

“That’s right, princess. Only I get to be this close to you. Only I get to touch.” As Garrick spoke to you noticed it shifted to a tone that you weren’t quite used to. One that was dominant yet serious, but oh hells did it do things to you.

“I don’t care that you’ll always be my foster brother now. At least you're not Xaden and not my actual brother. But now, we don’t have to push our feelings for each other way down below the surface.” You said in a tone you tried matching Garrick’s with but it wasn’t quite there. Looking at Garrick you could now tell there was a hint of possessiveness in his eyes as he spoke to you next: “Yes my princess, we don’t have to push our feelings down now. I am not pushing my feelings away for you anytime soon love, because you're mine now.”

“I’m all yours Tavis. Whether Xaden likes it or not.” You made sure to glance at your brother who now looked like he was fuming. But you quickly looked back at Garrick as he started to rub his hands against your hip, a wide smile on his face as he spoke: “Damn straight You are. Xaden’s going to have to learn how to share you. Because I won’t be giving you up anytime soon.”

God your heart fluttered. You knew Garrick had always been protective of you and Xaden and those he considered close friends. But damn, now that it was solely directed to you as his; it was doing things to you in your lower abdominal region. “Gods I missed you.” You breathed.

Garrick stood looking down at you which was a good two feet difference with Garrick being 6’ 6” and you just 5 feet even. “And I missed you, princess. A lot. Putting up with Xaden for two years on my own….” “But you; I also thought about you every goddamn day Y/N. I never stopped thinking of you. Thinking of you being stuck in that foster home all by yourself.”

“Same.” You admitted in a tone that was much softer than Garrick’s. “When I got your first letter knowing that you and Xaden were still alive after you finished your first year here. It was like the greatest breath of fresh air ever.”

You didn’t think it was possible but you could have sworn Garrick’s expression darkened a bit at your words. His hands still on your hips giving them a tight squeeze as he began to speak; “The first year here was a nightmare, Princess. You wouldn’t believe the hell Xaden and I went through during it.” Your eyes softened as you gripped his waist tightly. “I know being the oldest of the rebels you both have-” You started to say as Garrick cut you off “Hey, focus on right now, with me, my banphrionsa.”

You sighed “That whole first year you left. I made a calendar on the wall marking the days so I’d know when to expect the first letter from you or Xaden after your first year here ended and you were able to send letters.” “You made a calendar Y/N? A whole entire year?” Garrick asked, speechless. “Yeah I made two actually. The next one marked every day a letter was sent and received and of course when I could see you again. Right on their cream walls.” You smirked. “I bet they were pissed off by that.” Garrick chuckled. “Yeah I kept it hidden when I was there. I'm sure they could have wished they could punish me for it. Maybe toss some more verbal slurs out about how we are rebel trash.”

Garrick chuckled. “You made two calendars on their precious cream walls just because you missed me, missed us.?” “Yeah all because I missed you. And I knew when we slept together in that house it had just been as friends. But after all that time of almost four years sleeping in the same bed it felt so cold after you left.” “You were alone in that cold house without me… god’s it drives me crazy; Knowing you were alone and cold while I was here. While Xaden was here.” You hummed in response “Like you said we are here now. We have each other finally I get to say I love you and mean it with nothing holding us back.

“Say it again.” Garrick breathed, threw a raspy breath as his eyes darkened and the grip on your waist tightened. “I don’t get to hear it from you first Gary? You giggled. “You want me to say it first? Garrick chuckled. “I mean I’ve said it once it’s only fair if you say it again before I say it twice.” “Stubborn runs in the Riorson bloodline, I swear.” Garrick chuckled. “Then my early threat stands. Should I go find Ridoc?” You smirked.

Garrick let out another low growl. “Damn it no.” He chuckled. “I love you Y/N Riorson. Damn it, I always have and you know how damned hard it's been keeping that to myself all these damned years?” “Yes I know; I’ve had to do it myself and the feeling of finally getting to say I love you. Feels so god damn freeing.” You both earned a huff coming from Xaden but ignored it; as Garrick said earlier he was going to have to learn how to share.

“Say it again.” Garrick said through a rasped breath. “Now I’ve said it twice. Is it really fair for me to say it a third time before you say it twice?” Garrick chuckled; “I love you; Y/N Riorson and your right it feels so gods damn freeing to be able to say it.”

“Take me upstairs, Garrick.” You smirked, running your fingers through his hair. “You want me to take you upstairs princess?” Garrick rasped. “Take me to your dorm on the third floor, Garrick. I’m still bunked in a massive room with a bunch of first years so no way in hell is that happening.” Garrick chuckled as he picked you up bridal style and started carrying towards the stairs that lead up to the third floor dorms.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it. Stay tuned to a spicy part two! (Also I should apparently not post synopsis before I start writing the physical fan fic lol)

Part 2

#garrick tavis x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #xaden riorson

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lolita-lollipop · 1 year ago

Text

broken glass

UVOGIN X READER

warnings: yandere(stalking implied), reader is not okay, bad upbringing, kidnapping.

Kinda long but it’s okay

———————————————————————

Ever since you were nothing but a child, the world had chosen to bring you misfortune. A dead mother, a father who is would love you if alcohol didn’t exist, a lack of friends, or family, or anybody who cared.

Your life was an endless cycle of misery and misfortune. You were cursed with the worst luck possible.

As a girl you were bullied, living in a small town the knowledge that your mother was killed brutally spread fast, and the kids at school would take anything to fuck somebody up. It only got worse when your dad did nothing to stop it. So you grew up an outsider, somebody completely alienated from the rest of the people your age.

The worst part about it, was that there was nothing you could do to fix it. You were strong enough to fight them back and win, nor were you smart enough to get them caught by the schools or their parents. So you had to live with it.

Your unlucky tendencies carried with you all the way into adulthood. You had somehow managed to get into a good college, miles and miles away from your small hometown, where your past couldn’t follow you. But by that time you had no clue how to socialize like a normal person, so you only made a few friends in your first year. Even so, your life was going better than it ever had, you had more friends than you’d ever accomplished to make in your childhood, your roommate cared for you, being much older and much wiser. And you were happy.

Then, you got a call. From the exact person you had been avoiding since you stepped foot out of that awful town. That awful place.

“Y/n… I’m sick” your father sounded older, his voice was scratchy and weak now. Probably from the endless amount of cigarettes he smoked, you knew that your dad would never call you unless he actually needed you. He hadn’t even tried to contact you since you left, barely caring enough to send you a happy birthday text. You were a last resort to him, that much you knew for certain.

“And.”

“I need you to come back. To come home. My legs, my legs don’t work anymore. Please baby…I miss you.” You could hear the lies dripping from every word he spoke, that’s the sweet tone you had only ever heard from your father when he wanted something. Usually it was something as minuscule as money or whiskey or weed. Like usual, he knew you didn’t know how to say no to him when he dangled that ghost of affection in your face. And like usual, you chased after it like an idiot.

That’s what you were, an idiot. You knew ut, your father knew it. Who would go back to a life of misery, back to a town filled with only sad memories, of pain. Who would be stupid enough to fall for the manipulation of an old man who barely raised you? You would.

So, you packed your stuff up from your dorm, opting for the online classes your college offered. And prepared for the long drive home in an old car you bought for half the already low price.

And here you were. Standing in your local grocery store , in your pajamas, trying to decide if you had enough money for snacks for the drive home. Bags under your eyes from sleepless nights, a heavy weight pulling down on your shoulders as you accepted your fate, doomed to a small town full of bullies and lying snakes.

The melancholy of your situation weighed down on you, showing on your face, the frown lines deepening as you sucked yourself deeper into a depressive black hole. Blankly staring at the small bags of corn chips and popcorn, you let your shoulders sag. Exhaustion reading on your posture. You didn’t know how long you were standing there, nor did you care. Not until a string band tapped your shoulder a few times, sending your head to snap up, and your eyes to snap out of it.

“You alright there doll? Ya look a little bit… dead” a gruff voice spoke, it was scratchy and rough. Not in the way your fathers was (withered with age and years of vices), but natural. Husky. Pulling yourself up from your spacing out, you straightened your back, screaming your neck up to see him. The man was fucking giant, taller than anybody you had ever seen before, with tattoos speckling his neck and arms. You stood there for a few moments, staring in awe at the man whom you hadn’t realized was actually pretty terrifying in person. Maybe you were just tired, or stressed, or scared, but the way he stared made you want sink into your own skin and disappear. It was unsettling, how his stare weighed down on your shoulders and pulled you back away from him.

“Uhh- Yeah man. I’m good.” You spoke in your quiet voice, pulling your shoulder as far away from his hand as you could. You sent him a tight lipped smile, and returns to your decision between what bagged snack you would pick. You tried to ignore him, who stayed put in his spot next to you despite your obvious dismissal to his advance on a conversation.

You spotted him in your peripheral vision, staring at you. That heavy feeling never left you, and the longer the giant man stayed there, the heavier and heavier it weighed down.

“The popcorn is gross here. It comes stale even in a sealed bag. I wouldn’t get it if ya don’t wanna feel sick tommorow” he spoke again, leaning down to be at your eye level. You glanced back at him, remaining indifferent despite your ever-quickening heartbeat. His eyes were still focused on yours, while your pen glanced over his physical appearance.

It wasn’t just his height that made yoh hneasy, he was wide in a muscular way, with a beard that put the men of your hometown to shame. There were slight twinges of Greg throughout his long hair, and while he was well kept and smelled nice, he had messy, almost unhinged undertone. And yoh had managed to gather all of that without even talking to him much. You gave another right smile, before throwing the chips back and placing the popcorn in your basket (doing it almost to spite the man) among the advil and energy drinks. You almost missed the way his eyes scanned over your cart. Almost.

“Thanks” with that, you were off, trudging your way to the front of the store with your basket in tow, you heard a pair of heavy footsteps behind you, and the cashier glanced up for a couple seconds. A recognizable look of fear flashed on her face for no longer than a moment, before the bells of the front doors let out a cheery jingle. And the man was gone.

The repetitive beep of the checkout machine rang through the storefront, as the woman made no move to strike up a conversation with you, her eyebags sinking almost worse than your own. You had almost worked here at some point, when you first arrived to the big city. You were glad you didn’t now, as you didn’t want to be subjected to whatever this pooor woman clearly had been through.

She just kept beeping through your groceries, bagging them up, and setting them off to the side for you to grab. When she was finally finished she placed the pricing machine down and stared at yoj like she was waiting for something, you pulled your card out of your pocket and gave it to her, but she immediately handed it right back. You sighed, partially in confusion and partially of exhaustion. Of all times, now was not the moments for somebody to mess with you, at two AM at a stupid grocery store. You stared right back as she held the card out to you, waiting for you to grab it.

“He paid for your shit. Just take it”

Huh

Strange.

———

That night you went home with a weird feeling in your stomach, you know when something feels like it’s gonna go wrong? Yeah. That. You chose to blame it on your father, knowing that you would not be met with a joyful arrival home.

The feeling stuck with you all along the drive to your little stupid house in the middle of nowhere, the popcorn you had bought did actually end up being gross, but it didn’t change the satisfaction you got from denying that man of you following his advice. Your radio was cutting in and out, your car was on the verge of breaking down, and your ac didn’t work anymore, leaving you sweaty and sticky in your car.

You weren’t wrong in assuming that it wouldn’t be a happy “welcome home”, it would’ve been nice yeah, but it wasn’t a surprise when you pulled up to your house and there was no short outside. The dead grass of your front yard, and withering plants of what once was your guarden spoke for itself how your father had been taking care of the property. Leafy vines had started to overtake the front wall of your home, the place looked abandoned. Sad.

After a few deep breaths of preparation for whatever fight that was about to come, you hopped out of your truck and began the short truck to your front door. The small glass frame above it was smashed with many small cracks across the surface.

It was sad really. The house once looked somewhat presentable, none of the houses in the area looked to be well kept or highly perfected in the visual category, they never looked that way, but at least you could tell it was a home for someone whether it be the old lady next door with kids who don't care about her and more debt she could handle, or the couple across the street you used to hear screaming at each other through the night. Somebody really lived in those homes, your house looked like an empty shell.

The pavement leading up to the front door was cracked and probably permanently stained with dirt or paint or blood or alcohol, the little garden you used to try to keep alive while you were little was shriveled and blackened by the sun, no lights were on in the house, and it was dead silent. You hated this place, you hated that you were back here, you hated that you still cared for this empty pit of shame and misery of a home. Cared for a man that had hurt you so very many times.

Approaching the door, you didn't even care to knock or ring the bell, the electricity in your house had long been cut off so it wouldnt matter, and if your father was expecting you he wouldnt mind if you just walked in. It was your house, anyway. Placing your hand on the doorknob, you let a deep breath calm down your running heart and pushed it open.

…

Unsurprisingly, the house was dead silent, a creak resonating through the open space as the noise bounced wall to wall. You could hear your heartbeat as you walked over the rest of the broken glass from the window, leaving quiet crunches under your feet. Just breathing the air in your home sent awful memories of childhood to race across your brain, it smelled like your dad, like alcohol and cigarettes and unhappiness and anger. It even looked miserable in here, almost just as bad, if not worse, than outside.

Flicking on your phone flashlight, little flecks of broken glass reflected the light, they were scattered across the entire house, maybe from the broken front window, maybe from other windows in the house. Your dad was never one for cleaning, knowing him he must've gotten upset and broken a couple. With no one else to clean it, he probably left it there. That's how he is, how he's always been. Why did you love him? How stupid were you?

“Dad?” you called, but it echoed through the home. You now realize just how empty it truly was, no more furniture was scattered here or there or anywhere, it was just empty and sad. Fitting. Really fucking fitting.

“Dad? You called me?” You called once more, still only getting the creaks of the old house in return. You took another deep breath, the smell was starting to get to you, this was supposed to be easier for you now, you were an independent woman now, and the smell of your childhood home shouldn't have you spiraling like it did. You shouldn't have come here.

“I drove all the way out here for you. If you weren't gonna show you could've just called me. Go to hell, asshole.” still awaiting an answer. You knew he wasn't here, and you certainly knew it was stupid to talk to an empty house, but you wasted gas and good money for this. Wasted money on a man who didn't even care enough to show his face. Wasted money to go back to a life you've been clawing to escape from.

You didn't even realize you were crying until you felt the tears start to roll down your cheeks.

It hurt to be here, genuinely, the floors felt like they were trying to soak you up and suffocate you, the walls felt like they were closing in, and the ceilings felt like they were slowly crushing you. What were you supposed to do? You spent so long running away from this place, how could you let yourself be dragged back here, especially for no reason?

Your eyes fell to your feet, sucking in air as best as you could, you tried your hardest to keep your soft cries from turning into sobs. There wasn't anybody to hide your tears from, but it felt wrong, you shouldn't let yourself be this upset. You know.

Your cries halted when you spotted a dark patch of carpet in between the space where your feet were planted, not tears or water or even alcohol, it was bright red. Blood, and not the kind that's gone brown because it's been sitting for so long. This was new, recent blood. The dead silence of the house now had you frozen in spot. Could somebody have broken in? Your eyes followed a now obvious trail of spots leading toward your mom's old bedroom.

They slept in different rooms before she died, whether it was because they hated or other or were scared of each other (or both) he never went in there. Never.

You should leave. Shouldn't you? You should leave, he's not your problem anymore, he abandoned you when you were little, and kicked you to the curb. He deserved whatever was coming to him, he had it coming. You should leave, you should leave, you should leave, you should leave.

…

But you can't.

Even though you were actively willing to run out the front door, you just couldn't find it in you to leave. Pathetic. You knew, but this is how it was, this is how it was always meant to be. He calls and you answer, no matter how fucked up it was.

So, instead of making a haste bolt for the door or any of the broken windows, you slowly crept closer and closer to the bedroom where you said goodbye to your mother, your breath was shallow and unmanageable, almost worse than your uncontrollable heartbeat, whatever was behind the door was surely not pretty.

It took you a few moments to work up the courage to even touch the doorknob, hand quivering along the way there. You waited, the last time you were in this room was over 10 years ago, you couldn't even remember what it looked like, what your mother looked like. You were being stupid weren't you, it was just a room, probably empty by now, furniture either stolen or sold like the rest of the house. inhaling, you twisted, and pushed the door open.

To reveal… absolutely nothing. Just an empty room with the same exact smell as the rest of the house, a puddle of blood sat in the middle of the room, but nobody, no person or animal or thing that could bleed. Just an empty, meaningless room. Just like the rest of the house. You let out a sigh of relief at the uneventfulness of the failed search, that wasn't so bad, you were fine.

Were you? A loud creak echoed through the short hallway behind you, and you made a motion to turn around.

Hands were on you before you could even breathe again. One covering your mouth, and one firmly planted on your shoulder. Huge hands, bigger than your fathers for sure, calloused and strong, scarily strong. Whoever this was smelled familiar, vaguely familiar, not like someone you knew closely. The shock from him grabbing you forced your phone to fall out of your grip. Oh god, oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god

You should have gone home, you should've cursed out your father and left. You shouldn't have been curious or caring or kind… you lived in a bad neighborhood, people died left and right, and the police couldn't give less of a shit what happens here. You were going to die, you were going to die in the same house you grew up in, the same house you cried and hurt and screamed in. What a sad ending, to think you were finally starting to get your life on somewhat of a track, only to die at the hands of a stranger. Fuc-

“Stop thinking so hard, I’m not gonna hurt you” a gruff voice spoke behind you, deep and dark and powerful. You started crying the second he spoke, your heart beating faster than your body should be able to take. Whoever this was, was not somebody you would ever want to mess with, they sounded more authoritative than you could ever even wish to be. You couldn't stop your heart from clenching out of fear, couldn't stop the tears from dripping down your face, couldn't breathe right.

“You don't need to cry… I said I wasn't gonna hurt you” One of his fingers strayed from your mouth to wipe tears away, but it did nothing to stop fear from overtaking your senses or forcing out sobs and cries from your lips. You were positive that your entire body was quivering and shaking, you couldn't feel it, too scared to think about anything other than death, but you knew it was naturally happening. You heard him let out a sigh from behind you (even his breathing was harsh and rough) before his arm hooked under your knees and pulled you flush against him.

“I’ve never been this close to you before, I’ve been waiting for this one for a while. We met when we were kids ya know, you looked so… empty, miserable, tired, fucking empty. You still do, you're just better at hiding it. I've been watching, it since then. You're just too nice for your good.” your cries increased as he spoke, you didn't struggle or scratch or scream, just cried. He was too strong for it to matter if you did.

He chuckled as you kept crying, by now he had begun to walk to the front door.

“Don't make a scene, if anybody notices, they're dead.” The words he spoke were so nonchalant, but still so terrifying that it had you struggling to breathe. He broke the front door open with his foot and pushed his way through the doorway, he hit his head on the top as he went through, that must be why the glass was broken.

You were frozen in his arms as he continued to carry you, the sun now lit up your surroundings, showing exactly who your captor was, now it made sense why you mildly recognized him. He was the man from the grocery store, you should've known by the way he spoke, you should've recognized that voice anywhere. HE caught your gaze as you stared at him, giving you a toothy smile. His canines were scarily sharp, and now that you can get a closer look this man was even more terrifying. His bear, his eyes, his teeth, everything about him screamed danger. You stiffened as you stared at him, why why why why why why why You shouldn't have fucking come here.

“Quit looking so scared of me. God you're stiff as a board, I forgot how jumpy you were. It's been a while since I’ve seen you this scared, not since the incident at the coffee shop-” Who does he think he is? Talking just like he knows you like he's had any kind of conversation with you before that wasn't about popcorn at a stupid stupid grocery store. What were you supposed to do? You fully believed that he was the type of man to kill anybody who tried to stop him, even then nobody would (people in this neighborhood learned to keep their mouths shut), and he was much much stronger than you. You just… you just had to give up. There was no winning, not against him, not here.

The thought alone made you want to curl up and die.

Pathetic.

“Don't worry though, You're scared and I get it. But you'll get used to me. I’ll treat you real good, buy you things you’ve never had before. “ Your breath hitched and you quivered as he continued to blabber on and on about what kind of house he had, he tucked you into the passenger seat of some kind of black fancy car, got into the driver's seat, and proceeded to drive away—no more explanation than that. You couldn't do anything more than stare at him with those wide eyes of yours, he was watching you too intensely for you to try and throw yourself out of the car, and even then you doubted you would get very far before he caught you.

So you awkwardly sat in the leather seats of the fancy-ass car, tears still freely flowing as you sat, waiting for this man to take you to some alleyway and murder you. You picked at your fingernails, eyes darting around the interior of the car, it was clean and neat and looked to be stupidly expensive, everything that man wasn't. Who is that man anyway?

Almost as if reading your mind, the man brought a hand up to wipe the tears from your face, only to end up cupping your cheek and staring at you for a while as he drove.

“The name’s Uvogin, and I’m madly in love with you”

———————————————————————

Hey pookie s I’m back, this has been in my wanna write list for a LONG time. But it’s now so it’s fine. I’m kinda weak in the knees for the entire phantom troupe so tell me what you think.

Sorry for the long delay:) but I’m back now

Have a great day today, bye!

367 notes · View notes

fuwushiguro · 2 years ago

Text

Call Me If You Get Lost

part seventeen | masterlist | part nineteen

Yuuji Itadori x f!reader x Megumi Fushiguro

Genre: Smut & Angst Notes: University AU, all characters aged up. The reader is getting on my nerves a lil oops<;3 Warnings: 18+, pet names, cheating, family drama, smokin' weed!!, depression, blowjob, fingering, clit kissing, tit sucking, degradation, pining, lmk if i missed any! Words: 6.9k

Synopsis: You’ve been dating Yuuji Itadori for nine months. He’s the best boyfriend you’ve ever had, he cares for you deeply and he’s amazing in the sack. When new boy Megumi moves to town and joins your art course, you are shocked to discover he isn’t the quiet introvert you suspected him to be.

You don’t think highly of yourself anymore. There was a time you thought you were a good person, at least a better person than your parents, but that time is a mere memory. There couldn’t possibly be a more perfect person, a perfect boyfriend, a perfect lover, than Yuuji Itadori. But somehow you found a way to fuck it up.

The fucking Fushiguro’s.

“You think you’re fucking smart, kid, but you aren’t as smart as you think.” Toji tells his son. The statement is met with nothing but a huff and an eyeroll. He knows what he did was wrong, it wasn’t meant to pan out the way it did, he even apologised. Isn’t that enough? “I don’t believe for a single fuckin’ second that you didn’t tell him to come so you could fuck with her head.”

Megumi sighs, again, not even bothering to hold eye contact anymore. Instead, he’s staring pitifully at the ground.

“Got nothing to say for yourself, you little shit?”

“What do you want me to say? I said I was sorry!” he tries to defend himself, knowing it’s futile. He is completely in the wrong, there is nothing he can say to justify what he did. “You’re so fucking obsessed with her, it’s weird. It’s sick, actually.”

“Jealous? Fuckin’ sounds like jealousy to me.”

“I’m not fucking jealous of you! You’re a fucking—!”

“Woah… dad? Megumi? I could hear you yelling from outside… I got some extra groceries for our guest staying, where is she?” Tsumiki questions, carrying the bags filled with food and toiletries to the kitchen before approaching her family.

“Probably fucking fingering herself ready to bounce on this old pervert.” Megumi crudely announces to the room. Tsumiki gasps, astounded that her precious little brother could be so vulgar about someone she thought to be a friend of his.

“You better watch your fucking mouth. I’m sick of you, I’m really fucking sick of you talking to me like I’m dirt on the bottom of your shoes, same for her. She’s done nothing to you, and you know that!”

“I- I’m gonna be late for work… try and keep the noise down, please.” Tsumiki requests, picking up her car keys and heading for the exit.

Toji sits down on the nearest sofa, crouching forward and interlocking his fingers to rest his chin on as he thinks. There’s a black spot on the wall that he can’t tear his gaze from. Looks like one of Megumi’s art supplies found its way onto the alabaster wall in the kitchen. It is such a perfect stain, he thinks. The way it is so obscene and bold in contrast to the white wall it is infecting.

He can’t think about it anymore, though, Megumi is pacing back and forth in front of him. His eyes are red, bloodshot, and puffy. He’s raking his fingers through his hair, messing it up so much he almost looks like Toji’s doppelgänger.

“You know what your problem is, kid?”

“Oh, please, enlighten me. There is an abundance of things wrong with me for you to pick from.” He doesn’t stop pacing, still a ball of nervous energy as he tries to find the simplest spot to simply exist in his own home.

Toji rises from his feet, grabbing his son by his shirt and throwing him down into the nearby armchair. He lords above him, green eyes fighting each other intensely, both of them refusing to look away or even blink to seem weak. Whoever blinks first loses, they both think.

And of course, Megumi blinks first.

“You’re always coked up to your fucking eyeballs. I thought you only did it now and then, are you addicted?” Toji questions. Megumi tries to push him away, but he can’t. “Answer me, if you need professional help I’ll—”

“Stop. Just fucking stop.”

“I’m trying to help you!”

“Throwing money at my problems isn’t gonna fucking fix me, okay?!” Megumi yells. “I’m not addicted, I’m not stupid. It’s just… It’s just fun, alright? Makes everything… fun.”

Toji laughs, though it’s more like a scoff. He moves away from Megumi, allowing him to leave if he wishes. But his son seems paralysed, afraid to make a wrong move in case Toji yells at him again. Something he said has earned a disapproving laugh, but he isn’t sure what he said that’s so funny.

“You sound like… me.” Toji sighs, covering his eyes with one hand as he furrows his brows and massages his temples. “When your mother died, you’re acting how I did. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I taught you that this is okay.”

Megumi is quiet, unable to answer. It sounds genuine, a real apology. But is it real? Or is it just a trap to get him to submit?

“I don’t know how to be a good dad, or any kind of dad. I’m shit, I know that. But I swear everything I’m doing is for you. I’m trying for ya, kid.” Toji tells him, honestly.

Neither of them has heard you come out of your room, eavesdropping on their private conversation. You’re sitting at the top of the stairs, doing your best to be as quiet as possible. You feel bad for Toji, and Megumi, too, in a way. They don’t know how to be around each other properly. To be a real father and son. But you can tell how hard Toji is trying to make an effort. It’s all down to Megumi, you think. Whether or not they can move forward in their relationship is up to Megumi.

“I— I know…” Megumi sighs. “Thanks… I’ll try too.”

“Can you lay off the coke?”

“Yeah, I mean… I’ll try.”

Toji ruffles his hair and pulls him into his arms. Megumi doesn’t expect it, his eyes almost bulging out of his head at the embrace, they gloss over completely with tears when he feels his dad kiss the crown of his head.

“I love ya, Megs, I love you.” Toji tells him.

Megumi’s eyes begin to vibrate, unsure of where to look. He clears his throat and decides to close his eyes to prevent any tears from spilling over, he allows himself to be held by his father, embracing the warmth of his body.

“T-Thanks, dad.”

You’ve been locked in Toji’s room almost all day, only leaving for a trip to the bathroom. It’s been nice to spend some time with yourself. Playing your favourite music and doodling in your sketchbook. You have some solid plans sketched out, and part of you is excited to go to class again and start painting.

“O’Keeffe?” Megumi speaks after a quiet knock on the door, but you don’t hear. Your music is playing full blast in your ears and the only thing on your mind is your art. He assumes you don’t want to be disturbed; but his curiosity gets the better of him.

You still don’t notice him when the door begins to open, due to your back facing it. He can hear your music playing now; and it makes sense why you hadn’t told him to go away. His conscience is chiming in, telling him to turn around and leave you alone.

But that isn’t Megumi’s style.

Instead, he throws a piece of gum over your head and on the mattress in front of you. It startles you, and you pick it up to examine it. And when you turn around and see him standing in the doorway, he can’t help but snicker at the sight of you jumping.

“What do you want?” you ask him, pausing your music.

“I came to say sorry, again, I wasn’t thinking straight.” he tells you. His eyes almost glitter and his cheeks redden as he awaits your response.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, okay. I’m busy right now so… leave, please.”

His head tilts and he can see a little bit of the sketch in your hand. “Can I see?” he wonders. You quickly close the book and tuck it under your pillow. “Okay, sorry, I get it.” he nods.

“Megumi… I’m tired. You are draining me. Is there anything else you wanted to say?” you ask him again. He shakes his head. “Okay then. Goodnight, Megumi.” you stand up, hoping to incentivise him to walk away. But he stays put, holding the door against the wall so that you can’t close it.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go somewhere… with me.” he tells you, and it knocks you slightly. You’re taken aback, unable to move an inch. All you can do is stare at him.

“Where?”

“I don’t know.”

“You can’t drive, it’s late… were you going to ask your dad to drop us off somewhere and pick us up later?” you query. It comes out meaner than intended, and you can tell the comment has annoyed him from the way his jaw is clenching. But you’re surprised that he manages to hold his tongue.

“No.” he pulls a joint from behind his ear. “I was thinking we could go for a walk and smoke.” he informs you.

“You know I don’t do drugs; I’ve never smoked before.” you remind him. “And I don’t think it’s a good idea to walk around with that in public… it reeks… I can smell it from here.”

He sighs, but isn’t afraid to keep eye contact with you. “Is the issue smoking? Or going outside?”

“You’re the issue, Megumi.” you tell him sternly. “You know what happened last time, I don’t want to do that again.”

“Tsumiki doesn’t like it when I smoke in the house, but she’s asleep and we can open a window… weed always makes me feel creative. We can draw together, if you like. It was fun when we were colouring on the bus.” he smiles, thinking fondly of the memory.

You can’t help yourself from smiling, too. “Yeah… it was fun.” you nod, agreeing. “Fine, hurry up before your dad hears you. Don’t make me regret this.” you whisper to him. You don’t notice it, but the subtle change in his expression is Megumi doing his best to contain his excitement.

Before he returns, you quickly throw one of your boyfriend’s hoodies on over your pyjama shirt. Not that you looked particularly provocative, you just want to make sure you don’t give him the wrong idea.

He returns, his sketchbook in hand and an additional three spliffs.

“Open the window and pick some good music.” he smirks.

Your back is against the wall, as well as the crown of your head. There is a glass ashtray in your hand, tilting between your crossed legs. Megumi keeps glancing at it, making sure he gives himself time to grab it in case you get ash all over Toji’s duvet.

“I feel like I’m better than everyone else right now.” you tell him, wistfully.

“Huh?” he smiles, “What do you mean?”

“You too, we’re both better than everyone else. Aren’t you feeling this?” you giggle, “I feel like we’ve done this thing, and we’re better now. Like… I feel like a higher being.” you tell him.

“Are you high?” he bursts out laughing, he begins to cough on the imaginary smoke in his throat.

A whine that turns into a whimper traverses through you. “I was supposed to be sketching!” you almost yell, earning a hush from Megumi, encouraging you to lower your volume. “I feel too tingly and tired to do anymore drawing.” you explain, adjusting your head so you can look into Megumi’s eyes.

“Tingly, huh?”

“Mhmm, tingly.” you pout.

He puts down his ashtray and leaves his joint inside of it, uncrossing his legs from his seat on the ground before standing up. His eyes resume observing yours as he gets closer and closer to you. Your heart is pounding, and you instinctively begin to close your eyes the nearer he is.

And there he is.

You can practically feel his nose touching yours. His breath on your lips. And you hope he can’t hear the way your heart is racing because of him. Your lips start to purse, and you can’t undo it because everything within you right now is screaming that you can’t. He’s going to kiss you again, and your mind doesn’t want that.

But your body does.

“Y-Yuu—”

You can’t say anymore, the end of a blunt between your lips and a clicking sound reigniting it.

“Breath in, O’Keeffe, don’t fall behind.” he smirks, watching as you do your best to obey him despite being so under the influence. With that cute smile on your face you’ve had all night, it makes you look like you’re on another planet. “Can I draw you?” he whispers, the vibrations of his voice rushing straight to your clit. And you gulp; you can’t help but gulp as you see the real depth of his intense stare.

“Okay.” you nod.

He helps you get the ashtray comfortably on your thigh so you don’t have to think about it anymore. Megumi’s hand takes one of yours so that you can hold the blunt on your own. You feel the breeze of him moving away from you as he moves quite quickly. You’re so worked up; you can feel your heart still pounding and you begin to worry that something is very wrong.

“M-Megumi? My heart hurts.” you tell him, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“Guess how many girls I’ve sketched.” he demands, barely looking at you before scribbling in his book again.

“W-Wha? Um… uhh… two hundred?” you wonder.

“Tch,” he chuckles. “You think I know two hundred people? Let alone two hundred girls.” he tells you, giving you the slightest hint.

“Half of that?” you furrow your brows.

“Less, O’Keeffe, way less.”

“Don’t tell me… ‘I’m your first?’” you put on a brooding, disgruntled Megumi impression as you ask him the question. His nostrils flare, with an almost unperceivable smile. But again, he shakes his head. “Fine, you win, I give up.” you sigh, a little peeved that you couldn’t figure it out.

“You’re my second.” he smirks as he does an impression of your impression. He turns the sketchbook so that you can see his quick drawing. It’s rough, really rough, barely even looking like you at all. It could be any girl in the world with the addition of some devil horns coming out of your forehead.

“You’re such a dick.” you can’t help but laugh at the poor drawing. “Will you draw me, for real?” you ask, and he nods. You can’t stop yourself from smiling, again. Realising he was trying to distract you from thinking there was something wrong with your heart. Just your mind playing tricks on you.

He changes his seating position as he finds a more optimal way to draw you.

“Megumi?”

“Mhmm?”

“I did have phone sex with Yuuji.” why the fuck did you say that? This is the longest time you’ve managed to spend alone with him without arguing or hooking up. You close your eyes, hoping somehow that will make it so he didn’t hear what you said.

He did hear, obviously, each word felt like a pinprick against his skin. But he didn’t let it deter him from sketching. Holding the façade that it doesn’t bother him. He’s never liked sketching women. He never truly learnt how.

He thinks they can’t stay still for long enough.

“Why are you telling me about that, O’Keeffe?”

“Do you hate me, again?” you pout, opening your eyes.

“No, I don’t hate you.”

“I don’t want you to hate me.”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t? Doesn’t what I just said make you hate me?” you ask, genuinely curious as to what he will say. It doesn’t sound right; it doesn’t sound like the Megumi you’ve come to know. Especially after how furious he was when he suspected it before.

“Why do you care if I hate what you do with your boyfriend in your personal life, O’Keeffe?”

His question stumps you and you have no idea what to say. Is there a reason? There’s something deep down that’s screaming at you that there is. But you can’t acknowledge it, not really. You can’t begin to let yourself believe what you’re feeling deep down. There has to be another reason. There needs to be something else that you can say.

“Well… I need to know what about me makes you so angry. What things I say might make you hate me.” you tell him, your head lolling a little as you let yourself relax.

“I’m just a bully, O’Keeffe, mean ol’ Megs. Right?” he grins, still sketching. You don’t answer him, unsure of what to say. All you can do is stare and wait until he decides to continue. “Keep your head up f’me, princess.” he demands, and you respond perfectly for him. “Me being a dick to you isn’t… your fault. It’s mine.” he tries to assure you, though you aren’t sure if you believe him.

“Are we friends? Will we ever be friends?” you question him.

“You want to be friends with me?”

“That’s all I ever wanted, from the very start.” you try to remind him. “Knowing that you and Yuuji were best friends made me want to be friends with you. I tried to be kind to you, and you were just…”

“I know.”

You have no idea how angry he is. With you. With himself. But mostly Yuuji Itadori. His own heart is thumping, now, knowing the hatred he feels is down to plain simple jealousy. He can’t stop thinking about his night out with Gojo. He can’t actually believe he told Satoru that he loves you.

Maybe he just likes you a lot, as a friend.

It’s not like he’s in love with you.

You can love your friends, right?

“I’d like to be friends, Megumi… I like being around you when you’re like this. A-And on the trip, you bought me my plushie… you were so sweet to me at times.” you tell him, each word you speak laced with longing. It’s emotional enough to make your eyes leak, a detail he wastes no time in drawing onto your portrait.

“Let’s be friends, then.”

The sky is black and so is the room that you’re in. Neither of you have the energy to turn on a light, and it would only attract the insects from outside in here anyway. The music stopped a while ago. There are only two sounds filling the room right now.

Your breathing.

Megumi’s breathing.

“I’m cold.” you confess. “I think I’m gonna sleep now…”

Megumi doesn’t say a word, instead, his breathing becomes heavier for a beat. Like he’s trying to inhale a feeling of vigour so he can leave you in peace. But he can’t. He begins rubbing his eyes and making them even heavier than they already were.

“You can’t stay here, Megumi, you have to go to your own room.” you whisper, fluffing your pillow before resting your cheek down onto it.

“I know.”

“I don’t want your dad to find you in here and—”

“I know, O’Keeffe.” he grunts, picking up his things and resting them in his lap as he tries once again to summon the energy to stand up. “I’m fucking exhausted.” he groans.

“Me too…” you agree. “Can… Can I see?”

“The drawing?”

“Y-Yeah… before you leave.”

And suddenly, a wave of stamina courses through him. The strength to stand enters him and soon enough he’s turning on the bedroom light.

“Megumi, the bugs will come in…”

“I’ll kill them for you.”

He sits beside you on the bed, flipping slowly through the pages of his book. There are so many drawings and paintings of his dad. You can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye, but you rest your head on his shoulder as he turns over each and every page. He really is so ridiculously talented. And you can see how much he loves his dad from all of this artwork alone. Toji is his muse, you suppose. Each and every piece is so eerily beautiful but also… sad.

“Has Toji seen these?” you speak softly. He just shakes his head. Your question makes him flip through the pages faster. You feel sad, sad that he doesn’t want to open up and guilty for hitting a nerve with him. “You should show him.”

“He doesn’t like art.”

“But he loves you. And he loves himself.” you giggle, “I think you should show him.”

He smiles at your joke but doesn’t answer you with words. Instead, he keeps going through the book until he finds your portrait with the horns that took him a few minutes. It makes you laugh again, and he can’t help but laugh too when you call him a dick for the millionth time.

He turns the page once more, showing you the sketch that he spent the entire night on.

“Sorry it’s… I don’t know. I’m not used to feminine faces.” he tells you modestly.

Your eyes begin to shimmer as you look at it. He is majorly downplaying how amazing this sketch is. It’s so detailed. So realistic.

It’s so you.

“Is this how I look to you? W-When I cry?” you can’t help but look at him now. Forcing his face to turn and face you while you look into his eyes. “You’ve made me look beautiful, Megumi. Really beautiful.”

“That’s… that’s just how you looked in the moment. I just drew what I saw.” he can’t hold eye contact with you. An overwhelming sense of shame and embarrassment rising from his toes to the tips of his ears. He can only pray that he doesn’t blush again, it’s so fucking humiliating how bashful he’s been around you lately. “It’s no big deal, keep it if you want.”

“Megumi…” you sigh, looking out of the window and then at the light switch in the room. “Can you shut off the light, please?” you request.

He grins, finally standing up to actually leave the room. “Goodnight, O’Keeffe.” he tells you quietly after turning the light off. The room is plunged into silence and darkness again. And he’s sure that he can genuinely hear how hard your heart is pounding.

“S-Stay.” your voice squeaks. “Stay here, with me.”

Megumi is frozen for what feels like a lifetime. All he can see in the darkness is your silhouette. The way you’re sitting upright and resting your body weight on one arm as you are assumedly staring at him. Waiting patiently for him to come to you and be with you.

“For how long?” he gruffly speaks.

“All night.”

“What about Toji?”

“I— we’ll wake up early so you can sneak back to your room.” you suggest. It hurts, a little. Thinking that you’re ashamed of him and you don’t want his dad to know. But the reality is that it makes perfect sense. He’d probably give you both an earful. He’d get the wrong idea. Jump to conclusions that aren’t even there.

He doesn’t say another word as he approaches you. Megumi sits next to you again; and even in the dark you can see the glittering of his emerald eyes.

“Come here.” he instructs as he gets into a comfier position. His head resting comfortably in the pillows as he lies flat on his back. He welcomes you into his arms, your head settling on his chest. You can hear his heart.

It’s electric.

Neither of you say anything, nothing of value, anyway. Both of you have your eyes closed. All either of you can hear is the sounds of life outside of the window, your breathing, and your hearts.

“Why did you tell me about you and Yuuji?” his voice sounding close to a hum as he plays with your hair. He needs to know why you brought it up. He needs to know why you wanted him to know, the real reason.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying.”

“No… ‘m not lying, Megumi. I— maybe I just wanted you to know how much I love Yuuji. How serious we are. How much I miss him.” you answer wistfully, you feel his body tense under you and it makes you panic. “F-Friends talk about this kind of stuff.” you inform him.

“About their sex life, you mean?”

“Mhmm…” you nod against his chest. “But we haven’t been friends for long, have we? Maybe that kind of conversation is something we should build up to.”

“Do you want to tell me about your sex life with Itadori? What you did on the phone? Would you like me to tell you about other girls I’ve fucked?” he asks all of these questions incredibly calmly. It’s a little worrying, you’ve never known him to be as relaxed as this before. It’s weird. Because the words he’s saying seem like they should be sarcastic. But the way he’s saying them… it’s like he truly wants to know.

“Do you want to know about it?” is all you can think to ask him. He isn’t sure. The idea of you being so in love with Yuuji that you had phone sex to quench your thirst is pissing him off immeasurably. And yet, he can’t deny how much he needs to know the details.

What gets you off?

“Yes.”

“It was… romantic. He asked to see my whole body… ‘n he asked me to use my toys.” you start.

“You have toys?”

“Yes.”

“Did you bring them here?” he wonders, excitedly.

“No.” you shake your head.

“What toys did he ask you to use?” he decides to be his final question, and he is met with nothing but annoyance when you hide your face in his chest and begin to giggle shyly. “Tell me, O’Keeffe.” he demands.

“A dildo… a-and a vibrator.” you admit. The idea of seeing you splayed out on your bed as you fuck yourself makes his cock twitch. He can’t think about it anymore or he’ll lose his mind. But he can’t help it. He can’t get it out of his fucking mind. He already knows how unbelievable you look as you cum. He can only imagine the difference with a multitude of toys pleasuring you.

“Okay.” he practically chokes out. “Let’s… we should sleep now.” he closes his eyes again, unable to stop himself from playing with your hair.

“A-Are you hard?” you ask him. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you. Your hand is splayed across his chest, his heart is battering against it. He does all he can to keep himself composed as the sensation of your fingertips gliding down his body drives him to the brink of insanity. And the little gasp you emit as your hand finds his cock. When you feel how fucking hard you’ve made him. “Because of me?” you finish questioning.

“Yes.” he replies, bluntly.

“I’m wet…” you mutter. His ears prick and his eyes shoot open as he looks down at your head on his chest. Did he hear you right? You aren’t saying anything else. It’s definitely possible he could have misheard you. But it definitely sounded like he heard you correctly. “Thought you were going to kiss me earlier… and I got wet.”

His snickers, chuckling quietly to himself as he thinks back to earlier. He knew he’d riled you up. He knew exactly what he was doing, but he hadn’t expected you to confess it to him so confidently.

“Princess… can I touch you?” he asks, no trace of a whisper in his voice. He speaks proudly, but quietly as not to wake his family. “I wanna finger you.”

Your mind, again, is screaming no. But your body… your stupid worked up body is crying for his touch. You’re not even sure if you’re high anymore, you don’t think so. But you’re wriggling around, and it isn’t subtle enough for Megumi to ignore how riled up you are for him. You can’t do this again, can you? You can’t cheat on Yuuji again. You’ve already done this with Megumi. And you kissed his fucking dad last night. You need to stop.

This time you need to stop.

“Yes.” you whisper, your heartbeat echoing off the walls in the room and into both of your ears.

You’re staring at each other like you’re mythical beings. Are you really here? Is this really going to happen a second time? If you do this, you know there’s no going back. Yuuji is kind-hearted enough that he might forgive only one indiscretion. But there’s no fucking way he can get over two of them.

“I need you.” you confess, a trembling breath carries your voice to him, and you can’t stop looking at each other’s eyes.

Your lips.

And he can’t help but to succumb. His lips crash against yours as soon as he registers your willingness. You hook a leg over his hip, immediately grinding yourself into his thigh as his lips travel to your neck.

And he sucks.

He sucks between shaky moans, his breath drying where his mouth had dampened.

“Fuck,” he pants, “I need you, I need to fuck you.” he admits, still aiming to bruise your neck to sign his name. And you can’t help but to let him.

“C-Can’t, you can’t.” you tell him. There is a small, ignorant part of you that thinks you and Yuuji can move past this. But to go all the way and sleep with Megumi? That is the ultimate red line.

“I know.” he responds. Because he does know. He knows what you’re thinking, and he hates that you might be right. Even after this, all of this, he still might forgive you. “I just wanna finger you.”

You nod again, looking up above at his lustful face. His body feels scorching in comparison to yours. You’re still cold, afraid maybe. Scared of what this momentary submission to temptation will lead to.

But you spread your legs for him like a whore.

But to him, they’re spreading like an angel’s wings.

He’s seen you before. Your bare-naked self. And it’s so beautiful. So wonderful. What resides at the apex of gorgeous, silky legs is your vulnerable petalled flesh. He feels it under his thumb, beneath your cotton sleep shorts.

“Your shorts are so thin… your pretty pussy drenched ‘em.” he coos, kissing the shell of your ear. And you mewl for him like the perfect girl you are.

His thumb slowly circles your cotton-clad clit. It’s so slippery and swollen.

“M-Megumi, kiss me.” you plead. He responds favourably, bending down to kiss you as he carries on teasing your clit. He loves the way you moan into his mouth when you kiss. Even when you pull away to moan with your lips barely touching. He thinks every time you do it you add another century to his life span.

“You’re such a good girl. My perfect fuckin’ girl.” he praises you, kissing down your neck and between your chest. You feel him move your shorts into the crease of your thigh, but he hasn’t attempted to touch your slick folds.

A sharp gasp leaves you as you feel him kiss your clit. Your legs quickly shut, clamping around his head.

“Open your fucking legs right now.” he demands, twinkling jade eyes staring up at you. And you do as he says, once again, slowly opening your legs for him as your body breaks out into goosebumps. He pushes two fingers inside of you with ease, your drooling cunt making it easier. His thumb returns to massaging your swollen clit.

“I— I wanna cum.” you lie. It feels amazing, and you’re sure it won’t take you long. But hearing him talk down to you like that has made you discover something you didn’t know about yourself.

“Already?” he questions, sounding disgruntled. “This slutty little cunt wants to cum f’me already?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Knew you were a slut. Guessed it the second I saw you.” he reminds you of the first day you met. He’s telling the truth, he really has thought that about you since then.

He picks you up like you’re weightless. He’s sitting on his knees and he positions you so that you’re straddling his thighs. He pulls your silk top apart so hard the buttons scatter across the wood floor. Not a single second is wasted, once your chest is revealed to him he fixates his eyes on yours as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

The way you throw your head back is involuntary. His fingers are still pummelling your insides in the best way possible. His thumb is massaging your clit just right and now he’s suckling your tits perfectly. You really are gonna cum.

You fucking are.

“Megumi—!” your voice cracks, you’re breathless as you look down at him. He doesn’t let up on your tits until you start clenching around him. His neck cranes back so that he’s looking up at you, and you kiss him as best you can. Moaning against him as you ride his fingers until you’re shuddering against him.

“Fuck… You are so—”

“Can I blow you?” you are practically fluttering your lashes in hopes he’ll say yes. He wasn’t sure what he was about to say. Something embarrassing, probably, he’s thankful you interrupted.

He’s shocked, stunned, even. He hadn’t expected you to be the type to enjoy giving head. Truthfully, he expected you to be nothing more than a pillow princess he could easily influence.

“I don’t do it much; I think I’m good at it though.”

“Are you asking me to decide whether you’re a good little cock sucker, princess?” he patronisingly speaks. It makes your pussy throb to hear him talking to you like this. A little mean, but with the slightest praise to balance it out. You hadn’t realised how much you liked being degraded. Is that why you keep forgiving him every time he picks on you?

“Yes.” you nod, kissing him again.

“Off the bed, on your knees.” he breaks the kiss to tell you. “Now.”

He leans over to grab a pillow as you slide off the bed and onto the ground. The wood flooring feels awful on your knees, but you soon understand that’s what the pillow is for. He drops it between his feet and instructs you to rest your knees on it.

“Will you kiss me?” you meekly ask, and it’s so pathetic. How desperate you sound and how shy you are about it. Just fucking kiss him if you want to kiss him, don’t ask. Don’t give him the satisfaction of turning you into his quiet little door mat.

“So fuckin’ needy.” he chuckles and makes out with you messily. His tongue begins exploring the inside of your mouth, and you’re a puddle at his feet. He’s so fucking sexy it’s driving you insane. You still can’t believe how ripped he is as he throws his t-shirt to one side. He grabs a fistful of your hair and forces you to kiss him again, and you’re more than happy to.

He pulls down his sweats just enough to free his cock, still kissing you as he jerks himself off. You want to please him, desperately. But his fingers are laced through your hair to keep you in place as you struggle to breathe between sloppy kisses.

However he grants your wish, yanking you away from him and pushing your head towards his length.

“Suck.” he orders.

Your jaw drops for him as you let him slot himself inside of your welcoming mouth. Immediately you begin to gag, unable to cope with his monstrous length and the way he’s pushing your head onto it.

“Thought you said you were good at this? C’mon, you can do better f’me. Suck like a good girl, breathe through your nose.” he patronises you. His sultry voice rushes straight to your cunt, and your willingness to obey overcomes you as you begin to breathe heavily through your noise. “Thaaaat’s it, fuckin’ perfect, baby.” he praises you.

Perfect? Really?

You aren’t so sure, but hearing Megumi say it encourages you to live up to his expectation. It’s in this very moment you realise how much you’ve let yourself go. Usually painted nails are now stress bitten and stubby. You’re glad the lights are out so that he can’t see them. Something is telling you that he’d be disappointed with how your hand looks as you wrap your hands around his cock, twisting them while you lick and suck his blushing tip.

“F-Fuck, jus’ like that baby. Such a good slut f’me…” he moans, his breath shaking. You can feel his body tensing beneath you, his fingers tugging your hair at the roots. “Pretty little cocksucker, aren’tcha?”

“Mhmmpf…” you answer him as best you can as he fills your mouth. He’s leaking uncontrollably, the tangy taste overwhelming your tongue.

You can’t get enough.

You do all you can do give him the best head of his life. Bobbing your head quickly and gripping his cock just harshly enough to drain him of his pre. He practically yells when you lick it up, your tongue swiping over his slit. He grits his teeth and hisses as you lick up and down the underside. His eyes almost roll out of his head when you alternate between sucking each of his balls while jerking him off with the perfect grip.

“Shit, baby, ‘m gonna cum. I’m f-fucking—”

You giggle as you take him back into your mouth, doing your best to take him as far down your throat as you can. He moans loudly, biting his lip to stop himself from waking anyone as his seed spurts down your throat. You moan, too, as the taste of him floods your senses. But like the good girl you are, you swallow every single drop.

He pulls you up from the ground once he’s completely finished, letting you straddle him again. His arms fully wrap around your back and he kisses you deeply, allowing himself to lie back on the bed as you do.

“M-Most guys don’t like kissing after head.” you whisper. He silences you with another kiss.

“I’m not a fuckin’ pussy,” he tells you, kissing you again. “You did so fucking good, princess, course I want to kiss you.”

He tickles your back delicately as he holds you, still kissing you the whole time.

You don’t even remember falling asleep.

But you did, together. You’re still in Megumi’s arms as the daylight breaking into the room starts to wake you up. And once you begin to stir, he starts to wake up too. He kisses your exposed shoulder, and then your neck again, admiring the deep purple bruise that’s etched into your skin.

“Good morning.” he mumbles against your pulse point.

You giggle, “Good morning, Megumi.” you begin to squirm as he lets his hand wander to your protruding, exposed nipple. He can’t decide where to touch you, his fingers roaming your entire body as he leaves soft kisses on your shoulder.

“W-We can’t,” you laugh a little, “We have classes.” you remind him.

“Don’t care, we have time.” he mutters. You try to object, but can’t as his touches become more and more arousing. You’re losing yourself to him again. And for whatever reason, you can’t find it in yourself to care. “Turn onto your stomach and lift your ass a little for me.” he tells you. He gives you the space to do what he asked.

“F-Fuck,” you gasp as he slots a single finger inside of you again.

“Still so wet.” he teases you. He pushes your shirt upwards so he can kiss along your spine while he fingers you.

You’re moaning into the pillow, unable to control yourself so early in the morning.

“Megumi!”

You both freeze, paralysed by fear. What time is it?

You pick up your phone to check.

“We forgot to set a fucking alarm!” you tell him, completely panic stricken.

You hear the sound of Toji opening Megumi’s bedroom door, assuming he’s sleeping in. But not long after it slams again, the two of you begin to scramble.

“Pillow! Pillow!” he whisper shouts at you. You throw one to him. “Pretend you’re asleep!” he commands. You tuck yourself beneath the duvet to hide your body. There is not a single reasonable explanation to tell Toji about why you’re practically naked whilst in the same room with his delinquent son.

Megumi throws the pillow onto the ground and lies on the floor uncomfortably to make it look like he dozed off there.

And the door swings open.

Your heart is pounding, adrenaline through the roof and into space as you can feel Toji’s presence in the doorway. You can hear the sound of his nostrils sniffing. And you can only hope to whoever is listening that he isn’t picking up on the all too recognisable smell of sex. But he looks down at Megumi, unable to believe that you have both managed to spend extended time in a room together without screaming.

“What the fuck, Megs?”

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anemoarchonhoe · 9 months ago

Text

Commission for @unkownknowledge

Can I please commission Venti saving a transfem reader from their transphobic family?(And maybe falling in love?) With the fic being Venti helping reader find feminine clothes?

I did my very best so I hope you like it! Please read the tags before reading this work.

You have been uncomfortable in your skin for as long as you could remember.

However, you were only a kid back then, so it’s understandable why you couldn’t figure out why you felt so awful.

You were a teenager when you finally realized why.

It was only out of curiosity, but you tried on your mother’s lipstick and dress.

You couldn’t bear to look at yourself in the mirror before, but now that you are dressed femininely…

For the first time, you felt free. You’re so beautiful.

This is who you truly are. You are a woman.

Excited, you share the news with your family. You were disappointed.

Your father attempted to make you “snap out of your delusion” by intensively training you in swordsmanship and archery, hoping his son will “come back”.

You told him you have always been his DAUGHTER. He made you run until you couldn’t move.

Your mother couldn’t even bare to look at you. She hid her makeup and dresses.

It didn’t bother you because you bought your own, but it broke your heart to see her reject you. She acted like you didn’t exist.

Dinners are quiet. Uncomfortable. Unbearable.

You grew afraid for your survival. Your parents may kick you out of their home at any time.

Tearfully, you conveyed your fears to your friend, Venti. You hadn’t known him long, but you made you feel safe.

“Can you fight?”

You nodded. Your father drilled swordsmanship and archery lessons in you since you were 13.

“Great! Now, show me what you can do.”

He brought you to a small hilichurl camp and asked you to exterminate them. You did it, and while he gave you some slight assistance, you mostly managed to do it on your own.

Satisfied, he told you, “You should be able to be an adventurer and earn an honest living, then.”

You cried. He smiled and held you.

That was the day you received your Anemo vision.

He was there when you registered yourself at the Adventurer’s Guild.

The Guild Branch offers rooms for adventurers who don’t have homes. That’s where Bennett stays and he’s happy to have someone near his age that he can talk to.

Venti gave you occasional assistance on your commissions. And if he can’t, he points you to an adventurer party that can. Or you like going with Bennett, if you’re looking up for a challenge.

Soon, you had formed an adventuring party who you can trust to have your back.

Venti observed you live your life freely with a supportive grin. He is so proud of you.

A smile suits your beautiful face rather than the constant gloom he used to see.

You turn to grace him with that smile that made his heart throb with longing. He smiles back softly.

As for you, you are content.

You may have lost your family forever but you had yourself.

You have YOU and it is enough.

"Venti, hurry up! They have this pretty leather armor on sale and I don’t want to miss out!"

"Ugh… alright, alright." He groaned, looking like he had just woken up from an alcohol-induced sleep last night. He agreed with you that he should hurry but he made no attempt to walk faster.

You sighed affectionately at him. "Did you have a fun night?"

He brightened slightly, recalling all of what happened last night at the Angel's Share. Judging by how elated the bard is, you could imagine that he was happy. Although, perhaps at the expense of Charles or Master Diluc. "Indeed, I did. A little too much fun, in fact. I’m nearly out of mora."

"Oh, Venti. And here I was about to ask you to treat me to lunch later."

"Have mercy upon my wallet."

You giggled as you reached Wagner’s shop and slam-opened the door like you owned the place. That earned you a snort from Venti and a grunt of irritation from the blacksmith. The anemo god seemed happy to see you so confident now, unlike the trembling lost girl he had met a few years ago. He now wonders what you would think if you knew who he truly was. For now, he's content to keep it secret. He'll tell you one day, just not right now.

"If it weren't for the fact that you are one of my most loyal customers, I'd have kicked you out immediately," Wagner grunted, giving you a lazy glare. "Now, I'm busy. Tell me what you want then scram."

Unbothered, you immediately place your order for your leather armor as well as asking him to sharpen your silver sword that has gone dull. Wagner takes your sword and get to work. Then you face Venti, who still looks like he's hungover. You give him a sympathetic smile and gave him a soft headpat, hoping to ease his suffering a bit.

"Thank you, dear friend," Venti sighed, leaning against your hand.

"You're welcome, Venti," you replied. You continue your ministrations until Wagner was done with your order. After that, you walked with the bard to a clothing store, intending you get yourself a few dresses and skirts. As a very busy adventurer, there are times when your clothes inevitably get caught in bushes, branches and thorns. Sometimes it either rips, tears, and gets singed from hilichurl and elemental monster attacks. Thankfully, your last commission paid exceptionally well and you're now able to afford new clothing. You took Venti with you in hopes of getting his opinion.

But you also wanted to dress up and impress him. And you hope to fish some compliments from him, too. You pray to Barbatos that Venti would find you beautiful.

A breeze blows past you softly. You turn to look at Venti, who's looking at you with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. You took both of those as good signs.

A ring from a bell echoes in the empty boutique when Venti opens the door to let you in first.

"After you, my lady." Venti bowed.

"Thank you, kind gentleman." you giggled.

Venti took a seat and you began choosing clothing with the help of the sales lady. He looks around, humming to himself as he tries to help out with searching for clothing that will suit you and your taste. His eyes landed on a mint-colored dress. It's not suitable for adventuring, but it'd be suitable for a small event that's coming up soon. It'll be a day full of singing and dancing. He could already imagine you having fun.

"Hey," Venti called for your attention, raising the hand that has the dress. "Will you be willing to try this on? I think you'll look great in it. I'll pay for it, no worries."

"You don't have to, Venti…" you felt breathless. The dress looks beautiful, but you can't help but blush at the realization that he wants you to match with his color scheme. The colors look like his own, just a little lighter.

"I insist. Now, try it on! I want to see you in it."

So you did. You even styled your hair in order to match the dress, and the lady assisting you even suggested some great accessories and shoes to go along with it. When you exited the changing room to face Venti, you were a little flustered over how much effort you put in order to impress him. You dare lift your eyes to try and see his reaction.

The bard just averted his eyes from you. You would've been disappointed if you didn't just witness how the blush on his cheeks spread across his face like a forest wildfire. You were honestly a little thrilled and pleased.

"Sooo…" you slowly spun in place. "How do I look?"

He's mumbling.

"What?" You walked closer.

"I said… you look stunning." He shyly looks up at you from where he's sitting. "Breathtaking. Beautiful. Gorgeous. The fairest lady in the land."

As he began to confidently rain praises on you, it's your turn to feel flustered. You laughed awkwardly, raising your hands to shield yourself from the onslaught of praise.

"Okay, okay, I get it! I guess I'll get it along with the rest of the clothes I picked earlier."

Despite your protest, you couldn't stop Venti from paying for all of the clothes as well as the accessiories you picked. And as he gently took your hand while he carried your bags, you felt like the most cherished woman in all of Mondstadt. Your heart couldn't help but skip a few beats whenever he squeezes your hand. Soon, you reach the Guild Headquarters where you stay.

"Good night, Venti. Thanks for accompanying me."

"Yeah. Good night."

None of you made another move. There's a slight tension in the air. Then Venti takes your hand and places a kiss on your knuckle, then bows, walking away into the streets of Mondstadt. He leaves you stunned, but ultimately very happy.

Word count: 1,000

Character count: 5,483

#ventus.adventure #ventus.commission #genshin impact venti #genshin impact venti x reader #venti x you #venti x reader #genshin venti x reader #genshin barbatos #slice of life #genshin venti #tw transphobia #tw transphobic parents #tw gender dysphoria #transfem reader

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unabashednightmarepizza · 2 years ago

Text

𝐿𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑐𝑦

A/N: Hi, hello there! Here is me and my newest obsession! I hope you will like this story and keep waiting for new chapters to come! I couldn't stop myself from writing for Hogwarts Legacy so... Please enjoy!

Series Masterlist

“Oh, I didn't know we were expecting... guests?”

When a melodic and soft voice came behind them, Harry and pretty much everyone was only able to flinch at the sudden closeness and well, not expecting to see someone living in here. Even when Dumbledore told them that Harry's answers and also questions laid in here, none of them thought much about it. They thought they would be finding another object or some kind of relict...

Not an overly good-looking young woman.

“Uhm, hi... Do you live in here?”

“Well, I'm standing in the garden of the house don’t I?” Harry suddenly felt shy and blushed under the soft teasing of the woman, and she could only laugh gleefully as she looked at everyone briefly and frowned.

“All of you look so skinny... Come, I’ll prepare more food!” suddenly she was behind the group and an invisible force, alongside the strength of the woman, had pushed all of them inside the soft looking and warm, enormous house. As soon as they entered, they were shocked to see many magical creatures and trinkets around, with many pictures of people they didn’t really recognize. They stood there, not knowing what they were supposed to do when the woman appeared again behind Remus, startling him.

“Why are you all standing like that? Go on, feel at your home!”

“Are we sure that this is the strongest witch of centuries? She is too...

“kind and warm hearted...” The twins were indeed right, and Harry couldn’t exactly blame them after... seeing the other pure-blood families. With all that luxury and power, came arrogancy and they always had to expect the worst. When Dumbledore said that the woman who lived in that house was the strongest of all and had the purest of bloods ever known, that was enough reason for them to fear her even before meeting. They were ready to have a full-blowm fight...

But all they were met with was cakes and a hell alot of food...

As if she was waiting for them to come.

“Hehe, sorry for the way I look! I just came back from a run and had to clean the pottery at the back of the house!” the woman said cheerfully as she sat down and urged everyone to eat with a soft smile, energetic even after being left breathless, which eased the tension and even Sirius, the ever questioning man, started to eat. The house and overall ambiance of it screamed wealth and power, and though it would usually irritate him, Sirius looked around to see many drawing and pictures some left-over food and slight drawings on the walls, drawing that mist have once belongt to a kid...

All the signs that there was people living in this house, happy and alive, full of hope and happiness. Perhaps children that was adored by the parents, played with the child and let them explore everything... So different than any other family he had seen, just what a kid trully deserved.

But there were two things that bugged him, made him feel... strange. What was the reason of you being so different? And why did you look so much like his friend James?

“Miss Y/N... If that’s okay, I was meaning to ask a question...” he started after gulping his meat down and bowed his head in respect while wiping his mouth. You raised your head in confusion and gave him a nod.

“Oh, It’s been a long time since I heard that name... Surely, Albus is the one who told you?” you smirked teasingly and Sirirus did the same back, as he wasn’t used to hearing people use his first name. Daring, he thought while leaning back on his chair. The power that pours out of her is unique... Just what’s your secret?

“Yes, indeed he did... I didn’t know you two were close?”

Just like his ancestors, sneaky...

“Well, if you consider me teaching him for 7 years close... Then yes, we are close.” You weren’t stupid at the ways of Black family, how they sneakily tried to get what they wanted. Though you were aware how Sirius detested his own family, much like the man you once fell in love with, you had to be prepared.

After all, those closest to you were the ones who betrayed you once.

“WAIT YOU THOUGHT IN HOGWARTS?!”

“HOW COME WE DIDN’T KNOW THAT?!”

Flinching at the sudden excited yell of the two red-heads, twins as you expected, you were able to trully look at them for the first time since they came... And the shriek you let out was even louder than a screech of a Hippogriff.

“Red-heads?! Oh Merlin, what did I do wrong to deal with Weasleys again!” you fake-fainted at the sudden revelation, while the red-heads, all of them, looked at you confused. Just why the hell were you so scared of them? They weren’t like He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named after all... Right?

“Woah- Why the hell is she-“

“It’s probably because she is having war flashbacks from your ancestor...” A woman, who had fair blonde hair and many beauty marks across her face came down gracefully, with voice resembling the harps of heaven by how soft and calmly she spoke. She looked around for a few seconds and then went to the woman sitting at the head of the table, not without stopping to look at Harry who blushed under her intense gaze, yet smiled warmly at him with tears sitting at the back of her eyes at the resemblance he had, except the green eyes.

“Mum, it can’t be that bad...” she tried to comfort you, but since she didn’t know the amount of times you had been a victim to Garreth Weasley’s pranks, it was easy to say that.

“No, my sweet Anne, you are right... IT’S THE WORST! THE AMOUNTS OF TIMES I HAD TO COVER HIM UP, AND THE AMOUNT OF TIMES HE PRANKED ME MAKES ME KIND OF LOATHE GARRETH AND HIS LINE!”

Anne shook her head playfully and brought you your tea, the one that would always calm you down, just like how you liked it from what she saw her father doing. And as you slowly calmed down from the sudden panic attack, you grumbled cutely into the cup when Harry’s voice cut you in the middle of telling one of the many pranks Garreth did...

A question falling from his lips, one that you always dreaded to answer., and one that he was curious about after something inside of him itching to make him ask it.

“Miss Y/N... Who was your husband? We didn’t hear much of him and... You didn’t tell us his name either.”

“Yeah, were you two also in Hogwarts together?” You gulped the last bit of the hot liquid as you thanked your daughter, watching as she put them in the kitchen while her eyes didn’t leave a certain tall, red-head and you inyernally gagged and groaned under your breath. All of our immortal lives, she didn’t care about anyone and now is interested in... Garreth’s descendant? Really?

“We... Well, me and my husband met and started dating in fifth year and when the school ended he decided that he would never return back to his family and their dark ways, the pure-blood family and all that shit you know? He asked me if I wanted to go in hiding, after everything we went through, accepted to hide and change our names... And I did, gladly even. Though he was put in Slytherin, he always said that it was because of his heritage and that he always expected it. To be honest, if I hadn’t seen the green robes... I’d have thought he was a Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.” You said softly, thinking about all the adventures and pain you went through with Ominis. It was no easy route, the one you chose to take. But it was worth it, because in the end, both of you were able to move past what was given to you and rather you both chose to be who you were.

Though, it came with a greater cost... A cost that forever wounded you.

Harry watched as you lost yourself in your mind, a longing look settled in your eyes as your finger slowly played with your wedding ring.

The ring you once shared with your husband.

And unknown to you, the sight broke Harry’s heart more than anyone’s.

He never really understood why he suddenly felt at home, as if this... You and this house was all he could ever ask for. There was a strange beating of his heart, as if something was squeezing it, pushing him further to know something... to realise something.

A picture of two people... Two people he didn’t remember much except some blurred images behind his eyelids. A red-head and a man with glasses... Right next to that frame, another man he always saw frequently in his dreams. A man who had milky eyes and blonde hairs...

And in both pictures... you were hugging them close to your chest with a happiness he never saw someone ever having.

“Harry? Are you-“ you noticed his eyes being stuck at something inside the living room and as you turned around to look at what it was, you widened your eyes at the pictures of your family. Pictures where your husband, children and grandchildren were all laughing... Alongside with two people Harry probably knew the best.

A shaky sigh left your lips, tears coming at full speed at the realization of you finally having to explain everything to the boy you failed...

Just like your children who you failed to protect as well.

“Miss Y/N... What is your true name? Your husband’s name?” he gripped the table thightly as Sirius and Remus’ hands found his back under the worried eyes of his friends and he turned to look at the matriarch, you,straight in the eye while Anne rubbed your shoulders, hanging her head low at what was coming and how hard it must be for you.

But you didn’t care anymore. You already failed, what was to come from this anyways?

The least that would happen was that he would try to fight you... which you wouldn’t mind, if it meant you wouldn’t see the pain that was caused because of you.

You have the same fierceness of my husband, dear boy... So much like him, so much like your father...

“Do you wish to know the ones that was forced upon us? The ones that no longer define us, or the new path, new life we chose to have?” you gave a sad, understanding smile at the boy as he slowly had come to realize everything slowly, putting all the puzzle pieces together.

All the pictures of his once family in your home, all the pottery and the little workshop behind the house, they way you knew a lot... About everything. Maybe he didn’t want to accept, or he did since he was finally having a family slowly, but though he might come to regret his decision... He needed you to say it to his face.

“Mum... We can’t hide it from him or anyone else anymore... He deserves to know.”

“I know dear... I know...” you smiled at your sweet daughter as she looked at you worriedly, consoling you in her mind as she talked to you softly while her own set of milky eyes stared at the young boy... The boy who also heard everything through the gift that was passed in your family.

“Both... I want to know both, everything you had been keeping to yourself.” With a nod, you brought some water to him as he gulped it down fast and gave the first part of his request as everyone’s eyes widened at the revelation.

“My husband’s name was Ominis Graunt, direct decendant of Salazar Slytherin and I am the direct decendant of Merlin...”

“No way...” everyone let out at the same time, knowing very well the name that haunted almost all the wizarding world... Even more than the Blacks or Malfoys.

The Noble House of Gaunt... Direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin. The people who lived to torture muggles.

How could their friend be rwlated to those... monsters?

Everyone slowly stood up, a hand on their wands before they were seated back by an invisible force and when they looked around, they saw the green shining eyes of Anne, as she used magic without any wand or hands. “Easy, boys and girls... Listen to the rest of the story.”

As she protected Harry and you, from the judging stares of people, she stood behind you two protectively as you summoned one of the many pictures you had taken of Ominis while he was busy doing what you forced him to do but in the end enjoyed doing it, “pottery”, and one with James as he attended Hogwarts for the first time.

And Harry wasn’t stupid to not realize his baby pictures too, even if he didn’t know much about the rest.

“And...?” He came closer to you with shaky hands, barely holding onto the frame and trying to keep himself from hugging you. You gave a smile to him as you showed the Potter family insignia you and Ominis once created as a joke and showed it to everyone in the room. A chorus of no way’s and shocked gasps found your ears but as you held the last person that was left of your family...

None of them mattered.

“I think you already know the answer, sweet boy.” You caressed his cheeks, and one beauty mark that resembled Ominis’ softly as he closed his eyes and leaned towards your warmth.

“Just please....I need to hear it...” Harry begged but couldn’t stop himself from hugging you when you uttered the last part with tears.

Tears of both pain and joy, caused by your single decision.

A decision you would always curse yourself for doing.

“We are Gaunts by the eyes of many, sweet Harry, but we chose to be Ominis and Y/N...Potter.”

And if it was worth anything, you looked at all the people on the table who had wide eyes just like the plates in front of them, and as you stared at your James’ once best friends with an apologizing frown... You knew that a simple hug and reunion wouldn’t fix everything.

You were cursed for a reason, for making a dumb decision and naively believing that you, Ominis and Sebastian were safe from... everyone.

And because of that, everyone had to pay the price with their lives... As The Potters' Legacy slowly died down...

But if Voldemort wanted it to happen, to erase every track of your blood and what you and your lover wanted to achieve...

This time, he would have to pass through your dead body before he touched even a single hair on Harry’s head.

You didn’t have anything to loose after all, and you would do anything to keep the legacy... safe.

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